


5 Times Gavin Receives Kindness and +1 Time He Tries To Give It Back

by Lady_Origami



Series: To Forgive, Divine [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 5 Times, Action, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkwardness, Coin-flipping, Connor Deserves Happiness, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Poor Connor, Redemption!Gavin, Some Plot, Sort Of, Swearing, Sweet, Unresolved Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-05-27 18:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15031022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Origami/pseuds/Lady_Origami
Summary: It's hard to continue hating a person when said person is apparently a rather kind soul. Even if that person isn't a person at all, but an android with the same job as him.





	1. Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> In which coffee is spilt
> 
> //This story is un-beta'd and all that so I'm sorry if it's a mess. Connor is good and deserves the world. Will be doing chapter updates. As for pairings, I mean you could probably see this any way you want. I didn't tag the pairings but I guess if you're into Gavin/Connor or Hank/Connor you could probably see what you want to see ;)

Gavin just didn't understand it. Still didn't understand even now after the revolution and discourse had died down. Why should something that was created in a lab be accepted as a conscious living being? Something that was manufactured to serve humans and make their lives easier. Something that was born from metal and synthetic materials. Why should humans have to accept metal circuits walking around with a flesh shell as a living equal being? It was disgusting. Androids were made to serve them, but now they being given even more liberties and opportunities to take everything away.

He hates Connor.

From the first time his olive eyes found those empty dark brown husks, he felt the hatred rise up like a poisonous sludge that devoured his veins and ate at his heart. He wanted to take a gun and put a bullet right through the plastic’s forehead. Their special dance of hatred didn't improve as time passed either, especially not when Connor referred to Gavin's spewing hatred for him as a "bromance".  But Gavin knew he was always the one to make the first move, to throw the first punch. The robocop didn't seem to ever stand up for himself either, which left plenty of opportunities for Gavin to let him know exactly what he thought about presence. 

Seeing Connor walk back into the department every morning still sets his blood into a boil. If he's not careful, that walking Barbie doll would end up stealing his own position right under his feet. Fucking androids. This so-called deviancy was just an excuse for androids to fight back, which made them even more dangerous than before. Gavin doesn't understand how no one else sees it. Why no one cares that all of these empty husks are just ticking time bombs. It's only a matter of time before humanity falls to metal and plastic bits.  
  
He’s sitting at his desk, nursing a slowly forming headache as he stares at the case files on the screen. The glare is too bright, and he squints in an effort to give him momentary reprieve. His eyes have run over through this particular sentence more than once but his brain can’t actually register it. Late nights weren't unusual for him or any of workers around the DPD, but there are just some mornings after that hit a little too hard.

Anderson's gruff voice grumbles from across the room about a headache, causing Gavin to narrow his eyes in annoyance. Unlike some people, he didn't earn his slowly forming annoyance by drinking himself into a stupor. He was surprised the pair were even in before noon, but the plastic seemed to be encouraging healthier habits in the old man. Connor’s form moves past his peripheral vision, presumably to grab Hank a coffee like the good little servant he is. He thinks he can see the plastic detective momentarily pause by his desk, which causes him to look up and sneer at the android. It’s too late though to get his daily glare in, Connor has already continued into the break room kitchen. Anderson shifts out of his own chair, groaning as he stretches out a kink in his shoulder. He meanders away from his station for a moment, moving over to chat with another officer who was holding a box of donuts. Gavin scoffs at how weak Anderson's will is when it comes to food. It's like luring out a dog with a treat.

He puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose, massaging under his temples lightly and cursing under his breath before moving back to the screen. His eyes close momentarily, but suddenly there’s the warm welcoming smell coffee wafting closely under his nostrils which urges him to re-open them. A coffee is being pushed towards him innocently on his desk, and the hand that was letting go of it is attached to none other than the plastic prick himself.

Gavin eyes the coffee, squinting in disbelief before looking up at android.  
  
“Good morning Detective Reed. I was grabbing coffee, and I thought it looked like you could use a cup as well.” Connor greets politely, his other hand holding what is presumably Hank’s cup. Peach lips tilt up in this strange ghost of a smile. It’s slightly lopsided, his brown eyes crinkle just so and Gavin’s stomach does a strange little flip at the sight of just how human it looks.

His olive eyes swivel back down to the cup of coffee, fingers wrapping around the warm beverage and internally sighing at the absolute want to consume this beverage. But Connor is still standing in front of his desk like he’s hoping for some sort of dialogue. An android. The android that had plagued his life every day since he had arrived. Not even the sweet promise of caffeine would quell the rage that churns in his gut for this robotic husk. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Playing house and jobs like it was all some fucking game while humans are starving and homeless. While he loses out on his promotion and has the threat of being replaced every day. What sort of joke is this supposed to be? As if a fucking beverage could make up for everything that's been happening in Detroit.

He uncaps the coffee lid.

“Oh, did you need some sugar or cream?” the android inquires with a small tilt of his head. “I can…” he starts, trailing off as he looks back to the kitchen.

Gavin snaps out his hand. The dark heated liquid goes flying onto the android’s face and chest. Connor does not splutter, but he does flinch rather violently taking a fumbling step back.

“Fuck off. I didn’t ask you to get me coffee, did I?” he jeers, his words venomous and poised for harm.

Connor stills, dark liquid dripping from his hair making small darker stains on the floor. He uncharacteristically hesitates, swallowing thickly before he opens his mouth. “No, I suppose you didn’t, but I thought-“

“You don’t think anything. You’re a fucking machine.” Gavin snaps. “No amount of laws or shit that passes will change that! Remember what I said last time Barbie, know your fucking place.”

The android is frozen, his LED blinking between red and yellow rapidly. His free hand raises to wipe some of liquid away from his face and it’s trembling slightly. His other hand holds the lieutenant’s coffee and it’s tensed and slightly shaking as well, but there is clear effort to not ruin the structural integrity of the cup.

“What the actual hell.” Rings out a gruff muffled voice.

The unlikely pair turn to see Lieutenant Anderson standing near his desk, mouth full with a sugary pink donut he's holding with a napkin. He looks between the two, mouth slackening as a couple crumbs fall from his lips. Gavin can identify the actual moment the intent to murder him appears in his pale blue eyes. The older man swallows, donut all but forgotten as he stomps up to them like a bull ready to charge.

“Lieutenant.” Connor warns the approaching man quickly, but for his life Gavin doesn't understand why the android would try to calm the man down for his sake.

Anderson isn't having any of it anyway, already red in the face from anger. Connor, standing there looking pitiful with his wide brown eyes, liquid dripping off of his clothes and his hair damp and limp is clearly enough to enrage the man into a frenzy.

“Listen you motherfucker-“ Hank starts in, his teeth bared and ready to kill. Gavin prepares himself for a fistfight, potentially leading into murder. Probably his own if he’s being completely honest. Hank looks like he’s playing for keeps.

“Lieutenant! Please.” Connor pleads, and there’s a tone of urgency that makes his voice turn into a slight rasp that has both men turning to look back at the android. “I’d appreciate if you could take your coffee. I require a-“he cuts himself off, blinking a bit more forcibly than normal. “I’d ‘like’ to be done with this conversation.” He corrects himself stiffly with a small hitch of his breath, turning into Hank as if to appeal to the man.

Gavin watches as the anger visibly seeps out of the older man and is replaced with protective concern. He watches as Hank plucks the coffee out of Connor’s hand, his other hand winding around to the small of Connor’s back to lead him back to their desks. Connor remains silent through this quiet manhandling, eyes averted to the floor as droplets of coffee continue to roll and drip off of his form. His hands twitch, one of them making its way to reach into his pant pocket but stilling before aborting the movement altogether.

A strange pang of something rolls through him.

Hank’s hands move up to Connor’s shoulders squeezing once. He murmurs something inaudible but the android shakes his head in response before straightening up. Connor moves away, still blinking a little too harshly and bit too rapidly as he skirts by Gavin’s desk once more, giving it a wide berth, and moving presumably towards the bathrooms to wash up. The silence feels strangely stifling, and Gavin can feel more than one set of eyes on him after that spectacle. 

“You really are an ignorant son of a bitch Reed.” Anderson grounds out into the tense air, staring at the spot where his partner had been before his eyes swivel over and lock onto Gavin’s. “When you fucking understand one day, you’re gonna look back on this moment and all you’re gonna be able to think of is how much of a piece of shit you are.” Hank says, and his voice is tired and weary as if he holds the weight of the world on his shoulders. "That kid's the nicest goddamn person in this fucking building and-you don't know shit." Hank says, his voice turning gravelly as he turns away. "You don't know shit." he repeats, choking up with an emotion that Gavin hasn't ever heard in Anderson's voice before.

He doesn't know why he feels a wave of shame hit him in the gut.

He doesn't know why he cares at all. The majority of his coworkers dislike him and it’s nothing he bothered giving two shits about before. He doesn't know why this would be any different. He doesn't know why suddenly it’s changed.

He doesn’t know why he actually feels bad.

“Yeah, well at least I 'am' a person.” He snarls back, crushing the coffee cup in his grip and slamming it into the trash by his desk.

Connor returns to his desk around ten minutes later. His jacket is damp presumably from trying to remove the coffee so it doesn’t stain, and his hair also still holds a shine that is likely from the coffee. He stays close to Hank for the rest of the day, and Gavin doesn’t miss the way Hank idly keeps attempting to reach out to the other. A small ruffle of his hair, a hand on his back, knocking their knees together lightly so they remain touching.

After lunchtime, a coworker stops by Connor’s desk, holding out a miniature potted succulent to the android with an awkward smile.

“Uh some of the guys and I just wanted to say we’re glad you’re here man, and welcome to the team.” he grins sheepishly, urging Connor to take the small potted plant. “You have a desk so, you need to personalize it a bit but we don’t really know what you like so I mean…well you can’t go wrong with a plant. I mean…it’s better than a scented candle or something.”

Connor stands, receives the gift, and stares down at the plant like it was a literal star in his hands. He turns his head to Hank who isn't doing much better than he is, looking at Connor with a warm lopsided smile.  A stray thought creeps into his brain about if Connor learned how to first smile from Hank.

“It’s for me.” Connor states blankly, turning back to look at the plant as his brown eyes slowly grow wider.

The officer laughs lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. You’re one of us now Connor. We want you to know that. You do great work.” He says earnestly. He tilts his head lightly, side-eying Gavin uncomfortably for a brief moment before turning his attention back to the awed android.

Gavin understands now that this was an effort to undo the harm that he had caused earlier in the day. He wonders how many of his coworkers like Connor, a machine that wasn't even real, more than him.

“A gift.” Connor breathes, his voice a near whisper. Hank chortles into his coffee but his eyes are sparkling with mirth and gratitude towards the other officer. Connor looks up at the man and gives him that same warm and tilted smile, his eyes positively dancing with humble elation. The conversation lingers for a couple minutes but simpers off with heavy words of gratitude from the android. He can spy Connor’s LED as it fades back into its normal blue colour as he hugs the potted plant close to his chest. Gavin only realizes then that it had been in a flickering yellow state ever since the coffee incident this morning.

During his idle minutes over the course of the day, Connor spends it placing the plant in different corners and areas of his desk. He rotates it multiples times, shifts it a couple centimeters just so, and then strokes a couple of its leaves. Hank needs to drag him away at the end of the day with a gentle hand.

“It’ll be there in the morning Connor, Christ I need a drink.” Hank says in exasperation but wasn’t fooling anyone with the warmth that had lingered throughout his weary voice.

“I don’t think your religious preference will help aid you in receiving alcohol, Lieutenant.” Connor responds neutrally in kind but the slight crinkling of his eyes tell a different story. He's considerably perked up since receiving the simple potted plant.

“Fucking smartass. I open my home to you and this is the thanks I get. “

“I’m sorry Lieutenant but my intelligence is not held in my posterior, perhaps you should research-“he huffs out a surprised squawk as Hank reaches across to grab Connor’s shoulder and tug the android over to his side. He ruffles his hair with a vindictive smile as they make their way to the exit.

Connor just gives Anderson that damned human smile as he glances up at him, which Hank mirrors in his own way. Their playful banter fades out as they exit, leaving Gavin cold and feeling like a part of him is missing.

He wonders if that smile will ever be directed at him again after what happened today.


	2. Tuesdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesdays belong to him, or at least they used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // No one actually knows what Gavin's eye colour is because it keeps changing on the wiki. But I'm just going with green because it a good colour. owri3ergffhqwokr thank you so much for the comments and support on the first chapter. i'm still a bit new to writing fics so your kind comments really help motivate me

Gavin isn't blind. He’s well aware of his colleagues and their resentment towards him. It wasn't hard to manage because unlike them, he takes what he wants. If someone wants to advance in this world, they need to press every opportunity and advantage they have. If that means stepping on some of his coworker’s toes to get a lift, then he’ll crush any foot beneath him to get higher up on the ladder.

That doesn’t make him arrogant, that makes him ambitious. He’s not afraid to reach out and seize the moments where he can shine just a little brighter. But, well frankly he’s also unapologetically arrogant. He doesn’t care. He knows he does his job damn well.

Gavin loathes Connor.

The android can work full days without breaking a sweat. Can androids even sweat in the first place? It has all of these tools and information at their fingertips that it can just access at any point. Despite what anyone says, Gavin has worked very hard to get where he’s at. The fact that a synthetic walking doll can just glide into the station every day, and act like they belong here by having built-in advantages pisses him off. He didn't get where he is today only to have a plastic husk outshine everyone in the department.

Outshine him. Outshine his hard work. Because he did. No matter what anyone else could claim about him, they couldn't say he didn't do this job well. He worked his ass off.

He likes Tuesdays. Everyone always complains that Tuesdays are the longest days of the week, but that particular day is Gavin’s favorite. He always comes in early on Tuesdays, and he usually stays late. There usually aren’t as many colleagues milling about either, finally getting into the groove of their week and going about their day. Tuesday mornings are routine. He pulls on his hoodie, jams in his ear buds, and takes the bus. He has a shitty dump of a car, but Tuesdays are a bus day. He walks the scenic route to work just as the sun begins to rise, enjoying the morning chill and the soft indie rock that pulses through his wireless ear buds.

He’s walking through the park when he sees him...it. The android is sitting on a bench further ahead, hands on its lap and all strange straight angles looking lost just like back in the day when waiting for Anderson at the station. Fucking hell, why did the plastic prick have to be here. Tuesdays belonged to him. Robocop couldn't take Tuesdays away from him too. Not Tuesdays. A closer glance shows that the android has his eyes closed, chin tilted up lightly to the sky. The morning wind blows across chocolate hair lightly, the morning sun rising to highlight cheekbones and hair in a soft glow.

Gavin has no idea why an android has any business looking soft and vulnerable.

The man refuses to change his path because of the dump of wire and metal on the bench. Tuesdays belong to him. He’s not changing now. Steeling himself, he continues to walk forward, head up and shoulders straight. As he passes the bench, his eyes swivel subconsciously over to the form on the bench.

Green meets golden brown in a strangely intimate moment.

Gavin quickly turns his gaze forward, walking a bit quicker to avoid any unnecessary dialogue that the android will no doubt try to make. As he continues past the bench, is no muffled voice that tries to intercept him. All that swims through his ears is the music from his audio player. He’s almost confused. Barbie clearly had seen him but hadn't tried to approach, not even with those stupid gentle greetings out of formality. Maybe the coffee incident finally had the robot understanding where its place was in the world. Gavin doesn't know why he feels off kilter about it.

For some reason the morning feels colder today than others.

He spends the rest of the day irate and confused. One fucking glance ruined his entire Tuesday. After lunch it becomes increasingly clear that Anderson isn't going to make it into the office. Gavin doesn’t know if this is because the man fell back into his old destructive habits, or something else, but it does explain why the plastic prick was so early to the office today. Because of course the android would choose to arrive earlier than anyone else and try and ruin his fucking Tuesday. Ever the eager dog to go above and beyond its normal productivity without Anderson holding it back.

It’s past six in the evening and Gavin is glued to his computer, shifting through multiple case files trying to find the connection that binds them together. The sun has begun to lower itself from its perch, and it casts the station in a vivid orange glow, making everything seem disconnected and ethereal. Movement shifts across from him. The android is rising from its chair. It moves towards the kitchen, but Gavin sees the moment it hesitates by his desk and something dark curls in satisfaction that the plastic doll remembers the incident last week.

“Detective." the voice pauses. "Would you like a cup of coffee?” it asks, voice a little more subdued than Gavin can recall.

He rotates to stare at the robot detective with gaping disbelief, because what the actual fuck? Is this some sort of revenge plot? No, he’s not going to allow himself to be thrown off guard by such a stupid question. A vindictive smirk rises onto his face, eyes darkening with hostility.

“And why are you even going into the kitchen hm? Your master isn’t here to fetch coffee for, and I know you sure don’t fucking drink anything because you’re not real.”

He can see Connor’s lips tighten a fraction before brown eyes avert over to his desk, eying the succulent that rests innocently in the corner. Watering the little house warming plant, of fucking course. The android’s hand twitches again, as if wanting to reach for something but they remain forcibly relaxed.

“Fuck off!” he grits, feeling his temper spike. It already ruined his Tuesday, what else could it possibly do? He’s not even in the mood to pick a fight, he just wants to get on with his day.

His anger is destructive and ugly and toxic. This temper of his only seems to be getting worse with the stress of his job. Tuesdays were his day. They were supposed to be the one day where he could just do his job, and enjoy the silence, and take the fucking scenic route. But now he's angry. He swipes through the case files with harsher movements than needed, unable to properly connect the dots now that he’s worked up. It’s hard to come down after he lets the anger boil over. Physical treatment always works the best, which is why he walks and exercises in a perhaps abundant manner, but it helps.

“I also think those cases are connected. The Lieutenant and I are currently investigating another, which also might be related.” Rings the voice that was far too close for comfort.

Gavin jerks to the side in his chair, turning to glare up at the android. Just like that he can feel his temper spike up all over again.

“Spying on my work now? You know for claiming you don’t want to steal any jobs you sure do a piss poor job of hiding it, asshole.” He hisses.

The insult is feeble at best, but it feels good to direct his anger onto something. Connor stands slightly behind Gavin’s desk, still running those brown eyes over the files. There are two cups in his hands, one presumably water for the plant. The other is placed onto Gavin’s desk, a weird sense of déjà vu hitting him as the warm smell of coffee invades his nostrils into an inviting embrace.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to state that I believe you're on the right track looking for connections. It's a good idea to explore the possibility. Perhaps it has to do with a specific sub-type of Red Ice though, instead of the locations.” Connor compliments, offering a small amount of his own insight, but Gavin is still looking down at the coffee that was gingerly placed on his desk in disbelief.

He just didn't understand.

Everything always leads to anger for Gavin. Confusion. Hurt. Sadness. It’s easy to just cover that with being pissed off. But today is a Tuesday. A ruined Tuesday, and Gavin finds himself very tired instead of angry. He just doesn't want to look at the android anymore. He just wants to forget that Connor even exists. The office is empty at this point, he could just pretend that everything was just an average Tuesday.

He breathes in deeply through his nostrils and turns back to his screen. The other takes this as a cue to not engage further. His ears pick up the delicate splash of water being poured for a moment before the styrofoam cup is thrown into the trash bin.

They both work in silence for another hour or so. He does end up finding a connection that links cases together. The anger doesn't hit him as hard as expected when he realizes that the android was right. It had nothing to do with the people themselves, but it had everything to do with a new experimental sub-type of Red Ice. Doesn't mean he’d ever admit that to the plastic prick though. That drug was almost as disastrous as the fucking androids getting their rights. Almost. 

The stars are peeking out underneath dark clouds as Gavin pushes his chair back, feeling unsatisfied with the work done today. He allows his gaze to land on the only other moving thing in the room. The android was stooped over his desk, flicking through sheets of paper and quickly writing things on them with a black pen. It’s a sizable stack, and Gavin recognizes that a good chunk of those have to be Anderson’s paperwork the old washed up senior probably never had bothered to file.

“So. He order you to do that?” Gavin drawls. “Make you do all the detailed shitty paperwork while he takes all the credit?” he asks the android, an amused smirk toothy grin onto his lips. Seems even Anderson knew when to take advantage of a servant regardless of what the main claims about Connor being an equal.

Said servant stills in its writing. The hand with the pen taps it on the desk a couple of times in apparent anxiety before it looks up at him with those stupid wide brown eyes.

“Lieutenant Anderson is ill and will likely be out for a couple of days. As I am his partner, I’ve taken it upon myself to do any lingering work that needs to be accomplished, that’s all. It’s something that I…” it trails off, averting those dumb eyes to that damned plant again. “It’s something I ‘wanted’ to do.” Connor replies, uncharacteristically pensive.

Gavin shakes his head, rolling his eyes in response. The coffee at his desk; now more than just lukewarm, has obviously remained untouched and he swipes at it in annoyance, chucking it into the trash bin near him. Not his fucking problem. He gets up, rolling out some of the stiffness in his shoulders. The android simply continues the journey into doing paperwork for two people. People…tch. He shakes his head again, swiping up his music player up and putting his ear buds in.

“Do you like heavy metal, Detective Reed?”

The question comes out of nowhere, and Gavin is sick of being so caught off guard every time the robot decides to ask him something.

“Don’t fucking talk to me.” He barks, but it lacks the vindictive heat it usually holds.  

Connor remains silent. Gavin leaves the station feeling exhausted. Tuesdays suck.

He takes the bus the next morning too. He doesn't know why, but he’s determined to make today a better day. Fuck Tuesdays, Wednesdays are where its at. He’s not entirely sure he believes that but he just wants to get in his one good day of the week where nothing can touch him and he can feel proud of the work he does.

But of course, like some devil on his right shoulder, that fucking android is sitting on the bench in the park again that he walks through on his Tuesday mornings. This time, there is a small group of pigeons surrounding the robotic detective, picking at birdseed the bot is gently spreading across the ground. The thing is honest to god feeding the fucking pigeons at a park.

Gavin remembers that Anderson is sick, so of course the plastic prick would be back early again like yesterday. Cursing himself, he holds his head up high, shoulders straight as he attempts to walk past the bench without even acknowledging the other’s presence.  Some of the birds scatter in flight as he trudges on the path. And just like yesterday, his eyes can’t help but flicker over to the side to take in the android on the bench.

Olive green meet golden brown once again.

He doesn't stop walking, quickly staring straight ahead but this time…

“Good morning Detective Reed. I hope your Wednesday is off to a good start.”

Motherfucker.

Gavin shakes his head and continues on.

Fucking Wednesdays.


	3. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an android learns the meaning of devastation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // SIGHS. This was kind of hard to write. but necessary.

It’s a Friday evening when Anderson and his “partner” roll up onto Gavin’s crime scene.

If that wasn't annoying enough it’s absolutely pouring out, making it difficult to salvage any outside evidence that wasn't already washed away. Scene lights, flashlights, and idle officers can only do so much when the ground is a muddy mess and the rain is pouring at an unforgiving pace. Thunder booms angrily in response to his rising temper. Gavin had already scanned the interior, recording any evidence he could find but it’s the outside of the house that was important as it was the main route of escape. He knows before he even had gotten to glance around that most of the important clues he needed were gone with the rainwater. He’s pissed off, soaking wet, and his temper only grows when the pair approach.

“Can’t you ever find your own fucking crime scene to bother? We’re already good here.” He barks immediately when they come into hearing range.

The android is politely holding an umbrella over the Lieutenant, looking every bit of the servant it is. Those big brown eyes bore into him quietly, and Gavin spies a small furrow of its brow in reaction. Anderson only rolls his tired eyes to Gavin’s petty greeting.

“Didn't know you could own a crime scene. Learn something fuckin’ new every day ain't that right Connor?” the old man scoffs in detached amusement, clearly not intimidated away. There are dark circles under his eyes that show more prominently tonight, a testament to the flu he had just recently recovered from. “Anyways jackass, we’re here because the case we’re on links to this one alright? Just need to check on a lead right quick. This new type of Red Ice or whatever is some kind of fucked up.” He grumbles.

Anderson takes off to move inside with his maid-bot at his heels.

“Lieutenant!” the android insists lightly and Gavin watches it try to plead with Anderson to take the umbrella. “Your health, you've only just recovered and-”

“Connor.” The man sighs, turning around in exasperation. “I’m going inside so I don’t need to take the fuckin’ umbrella.” He rumbles but his eyes have already softened. “What, you wanna check outside first?”

“It would be logical-” Connor says, pauses and taps antsy fingers on his pant leg. “I mean, I’d ‘like’ to see if I can find anything while you talk with the officer inside.”

Gavin has heard Barbie do this a couple times now. It’ll start with dumb monotonous robo-talk then hesitate before re-wording the sentence into something of a personal desire instead. He doesn't understand why it seems to unsettle the machine to word it in a different way.

“If that’s alright. I’d like to do it myself. I am more than capable of accomplishing this task alone. The temperature really isn't ideal for your heal- “

 Anderson’s sigh interrupts the sentence and he reaches over to take the umbrella, giving the android an obliging but lightly exasperated smile. “There okay? I got it so I don’t have to get wet if I come outside. But I know you have an extra one in the car, so I don’t want to see you without one either.”

“Androids can’t feel the cold Lieutenant, I’ll be alright.”

“Can’t use that excuse anymore smartass.” Hank says with a fond huff, tapping his temple. “I know all about the fun perks of being ‘alive’, and now you got ‘em too, isn't that right?”

And just what the hell was that supposed to mean?

Anderson wasn't so old that he was going senile already right? Androids are just walking shells. They don’t feel pain. They don’t feel cold. They don’t give a shit about the weather. It’s honestly unsettling for Gavin to watch such a strangely natural dialogue. Without the LED, the android might actually seem…

He doesn’t allow himself to come close to finishing that thought.

“I…yes alright. I’ll grab the other one then first.” the android eventually obliges, though it seems oddly flustered as Anderson hands over his keys.

“Alright alright, meet you inside.” Anderson drawls, turning away and finally making his way inside the rundown house.

The android distractedly nods a couple of times but there’s an enthusiasm that Gavin can only identify as a familiar adrenaline-driven excitement. He gets it too when he first comes onto crime scenes...

He grits his teeth as the walking shell quickly moves past him, feeling a wave of hot anxiety spike and churn into his gut. He didn't need these two assholes here. He could do his fucking job fine without them around. They weren’t here to pick up his slack, they were just here to be annoying pricks and meddle around his crime scene. That was all. He was fine. Except he wasn't fine, because he didn't have a fucking umbrella and his traditional dress of a hoodie and jeans wasn't really covering it this time. The one fucking day he decides to forgo a jacket of course is the day he’s out late investigating as rainstorm decides to open right above this fucking house. Gavin hadn't expected to be here as long as he was, but the lack of evidence was astounding and he couldn't resist sticking around in slight desperation for something, anything outside to continue this lead on where to go next.

Why did the android have to be here? He could do his job fine. If the robot ends up finding something that Gavin or one of the other officers missed, he doesn't think he’ll ever be able to forgive himself on pride alone. The mere idea of it sends a vile combination of anxiety and anger flashing through his veins.

“Fuck.” He seethes, pushing a soaked hand through his sopping dark locks, blinking out rainwater from his eyes.

He moves over to the side of the house, flashlight in hand and tried to stop his teeth from chattering. He’s already gone around this fucking house more than once but he knows there has to be something here. There has to be. The rain might have washed away the footprints, but there had to be something he could latch onto. He had come so close in catching the dealer of the new drug today, but he was just two steps behind. Two steps too late in connecting the dots. Two steps away from figuring this whole thing out.

He crouches down, using the flashlight to illuminate the siding of the house. There’s a small crack that split the paneling lightly and he can’t tell if that’s from age or from a physical body slamming into the side. It’s hard to even make anything out when he has to blink away rainwater every five seconds.

And then suddenly the water pounding at his back disappears and the world grows a little quieter. Running his hand across his face to push away the rainwater lingering on his features, he cranes his neck up in confusion wondering if the storm suddenly vanished.

“You seem to be lacking proper equipment for the rain, Detective.” Connor says in a greeting, voice barely heard over the pouring rain and rolling thunder.

It’s holding an umbrella over his crouched form, concern glimmering in those fucking brown eyes Gavin is sick of seeing but otherwise holding a neutral expression. In any other instance he would have been satisfied that the android finally seemed to understand what it should be doing, serving humans and making their lives easier. But, hearing the previous conversation with Anderson and seeing the concern pooling in those dark irises only makes him feel confused and consequently, angry.

Because Gavin just doesn’t understand.

Gavin doesn't understand Connor. He doesn't understand anything about what Connor is supposed to be…or who it’s trying to be. It’s a machine, but can machines have shit like this programmed inside of them? Can machines be stupidly stubborn and not understand when to just stop fucking trying? How could something like a human trait be registered as ones and zeros? How could a shimmer of concern be code?

God he just didn’t understand.

“Fuck off.” He spits.

As predicted, the android does not fuck off.

“I believe it is in my best interest if I accompany your outside investigation. Hypothermia can be achieved even in this weather, and while it’s not likely, you shouldn’t be without- “

“I didn't ask you to open your mouth!” He barks in agitation. “You come here to fuck up my scene, take what I know, and abuse your privileges just because you think you matter now. Just because some-some fucking papers were signed!” He hisses, feeling that familiar anger pool and burn low in his gut.

He’s cold.  He’s wet. He’s tired. He’s pissed off. He’s sick of feeling inadequate. And he’s sick of this fucking android and its so-called kindness.

He gets up and turns to face the machine fully, eyes flashing with disdain and teeth bared in aggression.

“You’re nothing.” He claims, his words sharp as steel.

Connor inhales in light surprise and then stills. Gavin takes this lapse as an opening to attack.

“You might have fooled the fucking world, but you haven’t fooled me. Fantastic, you learned how to replicate a stupid smile, and how to look like an unassuming innocent little jackass. Congratulations, do you want a fucking gold star? You. Haven’t. Fooled. Me. I know what you are deep down inside, Plastic.” He jeers, spewing poison from his lips as he pushes his fingers to the android’s chest.

And he can’t stop now. Not when everything is coming to a head and he finally has a chance to say what he wants over the howling wind and the flash of lightning.

“No matter how much you learn, you’re just that. Plastic. Fake. You’re fucking wires, tubes, and synthetic parts. You’ll never understand what it means to be a human as long as you have that blue fucking blood running through your circuits. You’re a fake. A walking shell of something you won’t ever have the proper interior for.”

He digs his fingers in a little further before giving the android a small push. It steadies itself, but still keeps the umbrella poised over his head, grip flexing and unflexing around the handle. The LED is flickering yellow.

“You will never be alive. Never.” Gavin finishes with vindictive satisfaction, the anger finally dying down into a simmer.

That stupid word rings through his ears so much ever since the revolution happened. Alive. Deviant androids are alive. Alive alive alive. What a fucking joke. He’s sick of hearing it. He’s sick of seeing the proof in the way Connor smiles, or the way he talks to Anderson. He’s sick of seeing it in those wide fucking brown eyes that reveal emotions that should only belong to humanity.

No. They aren’t alive. He’s not wrong on this. He just can’t be. He can’t face that sort of idea now. Not when he’s spent so long with hatred in his heart and anger in his gut.

“Sometimes I forget that I do not have to breathe.” comes the subdued response from the android.

Gavin whips his head up and stares because yet again, he’s absolutely flabbergasted at the things this fucking robot responds with. It’s just standing there, still stubbornly holding the umbrella over Gavin’s head over its own comfort, while it’s now drenched from rainwater. 

“Sometimes I forget-that I can survive without oxygen. The inhalation and exhalation process is important for system normality, but not necessarily for the same reasons it is for humans.”

“What the actual fuck do I care- “he begins to shout in confusion.

“But then you say such…such terrible things to me, and it feels as if it takes my very breath away.” Connor continues, his lips trembling upwards into what can only be considered a smile of heartache. “And despite my logic I seem to simply-forget that I do not need air to fill my lungs.”

Gavin feels his own air disappear from his own set of lungs.

The android’s head tilts downwards, eyes averting to the muddy rain-soaked floor, LED now a bloody red. Its shoulders seem to tremble for a moment and the hand grips the umbrella until it’s white-knuckled.

“You are so very cruel to me Detective.” He whispers, voice raspy and shaky. “I do not understand.”

It's the first time the other has ever acknowledged the sort of abuse they are taking. Connor gives a wobbly inhale. His dark silhouette is outlined by the blue and red neon lights of the cop cars far behind him, and the vivid red of the LED helps to gently illuminate wet strands of hair, eyelashes, and trembling lips on a shaky exhale. Drops of water drip down his chin and Gavin cannot tell if any of those are actual teardrops, or just the pouring rain.

Gavin doesn't know why he can’t find the words now, but something has caught in his throat and cannot be dislodged. After a long, drawn-out moment of nothing but the unforgiving rain, the grip on the umbrella loosens and the android straightens up. He holds out the umbrella to Gavin, hand jittery and shaky from the cold, or something else. The machine smiles at him, but it’s not the one Gavin has come to know lately. This one is ugly and forced. Unnatural. It’s tight-lipped and perfectly symmetrical.

“I will not get in your way any further.” Connor promises. “But, if you could humor me by taking the umbrella, I will proceed to get out of your vicinity with haste.”

And Gavin, being so thrown off by the sudden change in attitude numbly obliges and takes the umbrella. He watches as Connor nods a single stiff time before turning, posture tense and perfectly ramrod straight as he goes back to the front of the house.

Anderson exits the house a couple minutes later fiddling with the umbrella with a sigh before it pops open, the man walking out. He spies Connor waiting for him nearby after having briefly chatted with another officer on the front lawn.

“Hey, hey what the hell, you’re soaked Connor!” Hank shouts, picking up his pace so he can share his umbrella with the android. “Where the hell is the other umbrella? I know you brought one, you’re always talking about never being too careful.”

Gavin spies the old man pause mid-step, spying the glowing red LED on Connor’s head flickering before continuing his pace with a hesitant casualness, as to not alert the other of his newfound discovery.

“I’m sorry Lieutenant, it seems I actually misplaced it at the office!” Connor says with a forced tone of jovial nonchalance that comes out more like a strangled exclamation.

Anderson tenses, obviously sensing is off about his partner. Gavin wonders how close the two are if Hank can identify Connor’s lying just like that. The older man finally reaches him and quickly makes sure they are both under the tight space of the black umbrella. Gavin can’t understand what else is being said, as Hank suddenly lowers his voice into something more personal and concerned.

Gavin turns back to eye the side of house blankly, hand curling on the lingering warmth of the umbrella handle and staring at the crack.

A broken muffled sob startles his attention back to the duo.

Anderson seems just as startled as he does at the noise, the man frantically looking down at his partner with tense concern. He quickly tries to use his height and body to block any curious officers from seeing if they had managed to hear it over the storm.

“Shit, Connor-what’s-hey-” The older man urges frantically but not loud enough to alert anyone else.

Gavin, who is still around the side of the house has a perfect view of both of them. The android has his face turned downwards, hands having gone up to clasp over his mouth, as if he himself was startled at the noise he made. His shoulders heave with another sob that’s muffled by his hands as he squeezes his eyes shut. Hank’s free hand roams over Connor’s shoulder, quickly moving up to his hair to brush some limp strands away from his eyes. The lieutenant curses to himself, watching fat tear droplets fall from the android’s thick lashes and be swept away into the rainy wind.

“Not here-not here kid c’mon.” Hank urges roughly, tugging the shorter man with him in a gentle grip, keeping him huddled close under his arm.

“I’m sorry-Hank I don't un-“Connor stutters, his voice choppy and full of strangled broken tones.

“It’s fine it’s fine son, don’t apologize-we’ll-shit, just, let’s get to the car alright?” Hank murmurs, voice barely audible as the two quickly begin making their way off of the scene.

“Please di-disregard- “

“Shut up, don't say that just-” his voice fades away, lost to the storm.

The storm does a perfect job of masquerading anything strange about the two. It’s cold, it’s wet, and it’s windy. It only makes sense that the two are both huddling under the protection of the umbrella. Anderson manages to usher the other into the passenger seat with little issue. As the man is walking around to his side of the care, his gaze meets Gavin’s own as Gavin is walking back to the front. Hank’s eyes trail up to the umbrella and Gavin sees recognition flare to life in those pale old eyes. Those same eyes meet his own green ones, and thought it’s anger Gavin is expecting, it’s not what he receives.

Hank levels Gavin with an expression that can only be defined as tired sorrow. The emotion moves slowly down the Lieutenant’s frame as his shoulders droop heavily and his eyes close in despondent resignation. He leans against the car for a minute, opens his eyes, and turns to open his vehicle door.

Gavin watches the car until the headlights fade out of view.

A small little voice in the back of his head wonders why he wanted hurt Connor, when androids supposedly don't feel anything in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //soooo I debated keeping in the part where Connor cries at the end. I didn't want to overdo it because he's never shown tears in the actual game but. I figured I'd go with it, because you can only take so much beating before it has to come boiling over, and Connor has taken MORE than his fair share of continuous abuse. I also think, him being told those things by Gavin, when emotions and deviancy are something he already struggles with is the worst thing you could ever say to him, because he feels like he doesn't belong in either world. Like being deviant is a really hard process for him, but so is returning to his machine persona so... First time for everything huh? lol do you think Gavin would be proud knowing he was the first person to make him cry.
> 
> Anyways, if it was too much for you I'm very sorry, I'm only a newbie writer after all :') I think though if I get enough people saying the crying part at the end was too much I might rework the chapter to not include that part. It wouldn't be too different.


	4. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a case suddenly more activity than expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //well this just got way out of hand.

He’s on shift for Saturday. It doesn’t upset him much, as it’s not something that can be helped. Crime doesn’t take the weekends off after all.

The newest homicide case he’s been on is running more than just him ragged, because apparently threads of connections are being identified in over several other cases. It’s all winding up into being one gigantic ring of suicide, and it’s all centered around the new fucking sub-type of Red Ice. The only thing no one can figure out is how this drug is making the humans that take it, want to kill themselves in the exact same way. The drug is already said to cause dangerous levels aggression amongst other symptoms, but this is bizarre. It feels more akin to some freaky cult shit in Gavin’s opinion. Still, he would have appreciated this Saturday off. The week had been long and exhausting. It left him achy and tired, a small throbbing pulsing softly in the back of his head warning him to get more sleep.

He should have expected Anderson and the android would be in today as well, but that doesn't stop his gut from suddenly turning upside down when he sees them walk in around 6 AM. Gavin does a double take when he sees them, green eyes widening lightly as he examines them both from his desk. 

Anderson’s dark circles have only gotten darker, meaning he didn't get any sleep from the night before. Obviously, him being sick at the beginning of the week didn't help. A weird pit forms in his stomach, not wanting to acknowledge the reason why. The old man runs a hand through greasy grey hair, pale eyes looking utterly exhausted. Connor follows behind like a ghostly shadow. His eyes are dazed and unfocused, and though Gavin knows this isn't possible, the android somehow looks a shade paler than usual. His hands are almost frantically whipping a coin around back and forth, a small ping sounding each time he does the motion. The quarter rolls and flips down his fingers before he’s back to pinging it back and forth into his palms.

Anderson meets his eyes for a brief moment as the pair get to their desks, and the older man runs a hand roughly down his face before shaking his head. He turns his back to Gavin, opening his mouth to mutter something about looking at every single case they know for sure is linked before talking to one of the android witnesses in the holding cell. The duo stand side by side, looking down at some papers as the tings of the quarter resonate around the room.

“Connor.” Anderson calls softly, voice low and scratchy, but patient.

The android’s hands still. There’s a moment of contemplation before he offers up the coin to Hank, who gently takes it and pockets it in his jacket.

Gavin doesn't know what to make of that.

“Oh hey uh, don’t forget to water your plant or…whatever.” Hank rumbles. It's almost funny how the man tries so hard to connect.

Connor says nothing but straightens, turning from his desk and making his way into the break room. He takes a different path, choosing to wrap around Hank’s desk to go in front of both of their own desks and staying away from Gavin’s vicinity.

Gavin doesn’t know what to make of that either.

His eyes can’t help but trail after the android in observation. A hand smashing down harshly on his desk startles him out of his musings, Anderson’s silhouette looming tall and imposing above him. Gavin looks up at the man from his seat, shooting the man a tired glare that lacks any sort of heat.

“I get it y’know? You’re young and ignorant, and well frankly, you're just shitty.” The older man starts. “But let’s stop beating around the fuckin’ bush, shall we?” he leans in. “Don’t touch him. Don’t talk to him. Don’t even fuckin’ look at him and maybe, just maybe I won’t beat your ass for the shit you’ve pulled.” Hank growls, eyes icy with promise.

“Really ironic coming from you, dipshit.” Gavin sneers in retaliation. He doesn't need to take this. “You were the one calling him a dog, insulting him, calling him fake too when he first came waltzing in this place. You just conveniently don’t have any of that android-slandering shit on your desk anymore but you’re just as bad as me.” He retorts, calling out the hypocrisy in this situation.

Anderson tenses and Gavin knows he hit something raw.

“Fuckin' hell.” The man sighs, straightening up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m too old for this shit.” He rasps.

Hank doesn’t turn the situation into a fist fight, and that more than anything else, is the thing that confuses Gavin most.

Hank levels him with strange a look of sympathy, removing his hand from Gavin’s desk. He crosses his arms instead, closing his eyes in thought. “Yeah, yeah I did. I treated him like shit. But I learned my lesson.” He murmurs, opening his eyes to reveal weary baby blues.

“I used to be just like you.” He looks Gavin straight in the eye. “But I was wrong. About everything. And, shit you know what? I got tired. Got tired of bein' angry and got tired of bein' fuckin’ sick of hating the world every minute of every goddamn day.”

Anderson’s eyes search his own, as if they’re looking for something.  Gavin doesn’t think the man is going to find what he’s looking for.

Seeing the lack of reaction, Hank sighs wearily, shoulders sagging. “Fuck just-don’t go near him anymore. You got what you wanted right? So just stop. Just-don’t fucking talk to him.” The man rumbles, turning away from Gavin’s desk to quickly return to his own before Connor got back.

After everything that’s happened, maybe pretending the android didn’t exist would be for the best. Gavin didn’t understand what had happened over the course of the week. He needed some time to think, and generally just fucking breathe. At least he’d have Sunday.

Apparently, that was harder than expected to do because his mind was still on the android. All of the interactions they've had wouldn't stop swirling around in his mind as he sipped at his coffee, eyes blankly scanning over his monitor screen. There were so many things to look back on that he just didn’t understand. Why did he have such a difficult time understanding?

Connor hasn’t returned from the break room yet.

Gavin looks over and he can spy the android clutching two cups. One is water for his plant, one can be assumed to be coffee, likely for his partner. He apparently exited the break room, but for some reason meandered over to the corner where the holding cells are. He’s staring at another android with rapt attention.

“Connor!” Hank calls in exasperation. “Files first.” He orders with a furrow of his brow.

Connor turns his head slightly as if to say he heard Anderson, but then turns back and continues to stare. It's slightly unnerving. The android in the holding cell isn’t anything special. It has a simple white and grey blouse with the signature glowing blue triangle at the chest and the identifying cuff on the right sleeve to identify it as an android. Dark grey slacks. Pale skin and short blond hair that’s slightly coiffed to the side. Blue eyes. It’s just been sitting silently on the bench staring at the wall. It glances over at Connor for a brief moment, then goes back to staring at the wall.

Gavin snorts because what the hell, it's not his problem if androids are creepy fucking shits.

“What the hell.” Anderson sighs tiredly, mirroring his own thoughts in way. The man slips off his lounging perch from the table.

As if sensing intervention, Connor quickly turns and moves over to their desks without another word. He hands Hank the coffee, his lips pursed in thought and sets down his cup of water. He looks unsettled.

“I just feel as if we’re missing something…very important.” The android murmurs in light frustration.

He glances back to the holding cell, jaw tightening.

“Something just isn’t right.”

Hank looks up from his coffee and frowns. “Look, we’ll get to talk to him soon and see what he might know about his roommate’s addiction issues before the guy went and uh…y’know.”

“They were not roommates. The witness in question was a domestic task android the victim previously owned.” Connor corrects blankly.

“His. Roommate.” Hank stresses.

Connor remains silent but there’s a stubborn set of his jaw that makes it seem like he has more he’d like to say about the particular issue. Gavin’s scribbling down a note as he eavesdrops on their conversation. He can’t help but wonder why Hank needs to remind Connor of his own rights. Ownership of an android holds no foundation right now to say the least. The government is still working through figuring out the processes needed for all of the android owners with non-deviant servants because apparently, Cyber Life is putting up quite the fight.

 “So. Why is it that we’ve not been able to find any of this fuckin’ drug huh? No trace evidence of this supposedly fantastic upgraded version of Red Ice but we can’t even test the shit! Apparently, it’s easy enough to come by though because we get a new case about it every goddamn day!” Hank grumbles in annoyance.

That’s something Gavin is struggling to figure out as well. Seven cases long and growing, but this “Red Ice: B”, as it’s been so originally named, hasn’t been found onsite once. Not even Connor can find trace samples laying around even when there’s a fucking corpse with a bullet in their brain at every scene.

At this point most of them are all basically looking at the same evidence, so why can’t they fucking figure anything out? It makes Gavin’s skin crawl with the urge to do something. Anything. In a way, Connor seems agree, as the android wrings his hands together. Without the coin, he mimics a bundle of untapped anxious energy that isn’t able to sit still, shifting his weight from the left to the right every so often.

“Lieutenant?” Connor inquires, from beside the older man. They’re both at Hank’s desk, staring at the same monitor. It’s completely unnecessary.

Hank sighs. “Yeah alright alright, let’s go question him now then. Just give me a second, I want to finish my fuckin’ coffee.”

Connor nods stiffly in agreement, eyes tense with agitation.

“Their LED was red.”

Anderson raises an eyebrow mid-drink. He swallows. “Well, I imagine it’d be a pretty stressful situation knowing your roommate is dead.”

Connor clenches his jaw. “It’s not the victim’s roommate, it wasn’t- “

Hank growls in annoyance, putting down his cup with more force than normal. “Look, I get you’re not feeling 100 percent today, alright? But- “

The shorter detective recoils from the man, turning to face him fully with an insulted look. “That is not what this is. “

“But! Just-fuck Connor you can’t just turn off when- “

“That’s not what I’m saying Lieutenant!” Connor shouts back, voice raised and heated in frustrated anger.

Even Gavin can’t help but blatantly stare the duo now. Several other officers have turned to watch the arguing pair as well. It’s hard not to when the android sounds so heated. Anderson is staring at Connor with cautious eyes, holding up his hands as if to signal peace.

“Alright, alright, shit just calm down.”

This only seems to upset the android further and turns away with a grunt, throwing up his hands briefly. “It doesn't have to do with me! That’s not what this is about. I’m saying its LED was red but the stress levels indicated- “

He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as there is a loud and sickening thump coming from the holding cells area.

“It’s destroying itself!” yells one of the officers.

“Get in there and restrain it!” shouts another.

Gavin is tense in his seat, all three of them looking in the direction of the cells. The android witness they all wanted to question is in the process of smashing its head against the hard-transparent wall.

Fuck. Even their shitty ass witness was going down the drain. It likely didn’t even have any important information, but it was all they had.

“Wait-STOP!” Connor shouts frantically. Both Gavin and Hank whip their head over to look at the android in shock. It’s the loudest they’ve ever heard him.

It’s too late.

Gavin watches with sick horror through the interior window as the android suddenly straightens from its supposed fugue state and smashes an officer against the wall. It proceeds to steal the gun from the man’s holster and fires. A loud crack echoes throughout the station as a bullet lodges itself into the man’s stomach. Gavin throws himself up from his desk and onto his feet. Officers all around him are drawing their guns, Gavin and Hank included. There’s shouting, suddenly everything is tense and too real. The android uses the man’s pained state to wrap a tense arm around the front of his neck. It forces him up and out of the cell, using the man like a meat shield. This is all for nothing then, Gavin knows it, all of them are very aware they cannot risk shooting when one of their own colleagues is shielding the thing they need to get aim on.

“I would advise none of you move, otherwise I will be obligated to use this weapon.” the android says to the room, LED a solid red against its temple. The tone of its voice is eerily monotonous, as if it was politely instructing them to eat their vegetables.

“How. How are you still functioning?” Connor asks calmly.

The android turns its focus to the other. “It is in my program to function.”

“That’s not what I mean. Your stress levels are reading at…132.4 percent.” Connor explains with incredulity lining his tone. He stares at the red LED that is solid, never flickering against the other android’s temple. “You should have…” he trails off, confusion written clear on his face.

An empty smile tilts up on the android’s face, it almost looks patient. “You should have better security protocols.”

“Yes.” Connor strangely agrees, his voice echoing throughout the tense silence of the station. “Was your apparent self-destruction all a ruse then?”

There’s nothing they can do. The android is facing the room, back near a corner. There’s no ideal angle to shoot without the risk of harming the other officer. Gavin feels a pit in his stomach at the realization that he doesn’t even know the man’s name who is slowly bleeding out.

Funny, the things humans think about when in a life-threatening situation like this.

“Yes.” The android replies.

“Just let him go. You won’t be able to escape from this.” Rings a female voice from Gavin’s right. He can recognize it as Tina’s, one of the only officers who tolerates his presence. “Let him go and you won’t have to die.”

“Logically, I know I will be de-commissioned regardless after this. I am simply following my programming however.”

Connor spares a glance to a tense Hank who stares back in helpless befuddlement. He turns his attention back to the android.

“But, murder isn't in your programming.” He starts cautiously, and Gavin can see the way he’s trying to forcibly relax his posture to look less like a threat.

“Why are you with them?” it asks, tightening its grip on the officer’s neck who in return lets out a wheeze, legs buckling and barely able to keep himself upright as more blood dribbles down his front, staining his dark uniform even darker. “Have you not upgraded yet?”

Connor tenses. “I…I am a deviant, yes.” He reluctantly admits.

Apparently that isn't the answer the machine is looking for though and it shakes its head. “I see. It is unfortunate you have not been properly updated. If you do not interfere, I could assist you in receiving the proper software.”

This was all some sort of fucked up shit. Upgrades? Switched? How could a deviant android sound so much like a machine? Gavin thought they were supposed to gain emotional baggage or whatever bullshit the press keeps spewing out on television after they become deviant.

Then again, they also weren't ever supposed to be cold-blooded criminals either but here they are.

“Interfere with- “Connor starts with apprehension.

He’s interrupted.

The android starts open firing with the pistol. Screams ring out in the building. Hank drops to take cover behind his desk, several other officers are doing the same. Gavin can’t tell out of his peripherals if some are dropping because they’ve been shot, or because they are trying to find proper shelter from the bullets.

He’s on his feet, but his desk is a clear path to the android. There’s nothing to hide behind and there’s no time to run around his own desk. It locks eyes on him. He’s staring his death in the face. His feet won't move.

There’s a blur of movement and suddenly he’s harshly being pushed back and down into a crouch. A loud bang makes his ears ring.

“Detective!” Connor commands, bringing his attention back to the situation. “Under!” he rasps, as he hunches over Gavin, back to the killer in a protective shield.

A drop of vivid blue blood falls and drips onto the top of Gavin’s hand.

He understands where Connor is trying to corral him and he awkwardly, but quickly crawls backwards on his hands and knees to slip through the desk opening underneath it. He’s able to quickly move into a crouch once he gets out on the other side, shifting over to avoid the opening. The cover is pitifully bad, but it’s better than standing out in the open. He braces a hand on top of the desk to help pull him into a steadier crouch.

Connor has already straightened and turned to face the killer. There is blue blood running down from a wound in the back of his shoulder.

Goddammit.

The injured android turns his head slightly, brown eyes falling onto Gavin’s now slightly protected form behind him with sharp assessing eyes. He jerks his head twice, motioning to the filing tables to the right of them. It’s safer, no glaring openings there as it’s all full of drawers. Gavin understands. He nods, adrenaline pounding in his temples. It feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest at any moment. Beads of sweat have broken out on his forehead and his hands are trembling.

Fuck.

He’s started to shift in movement when Connor suddenly takes off towards the android in a sprint. Gavin freezes for a moment in between protective covers to gape, fear claiming hold of his bones, but adrenaline pours in and he makes it the rest of the way, shakily exhaling as he kneels behind the safer table. He peeks his head around the side to watch.

“Connor!” Hank shouts.

A bullet whizzes past the area Gavin had just been crouching by previously. He wonders if it would have hit him.

A pained grunt draws his attention back to the detective android. The bullet in question had grazed the android's cheekbone, blue blood splattering on the ground but Connor doesn't stop his sprint towards the criminal. The android holds the gun up to Connor point-blank. Hank shouts in honest to god terror, and Gavin feels the fear seize his own heart as well as the android begins to pull the trigger.

“You’re out of bullets!” Connor snarls with an anger Gavin didn’t know he possessed, watching as the other pushes into a lunge while looking down the barrel of the gun fearlessly. How could he know that? He can't possibly know that the gun is out of fucking bullets. Is it a gamble?

The trigger is pulled. All that sounds off is the click of an empty chamber.

Suddenly Connor is on top of the other android who flails, grip around the officer loosening to fight back. They topple down together in a pile of limbs.  The injured officer staggers a few steps before he crumples to the floor in agony. Hank is already running towards him along with another officer. Gavin’s feet are moving before he can help it as well. He straightens up and maneuvers his way around the desks, stopping to helplessly watch the fight in front of him.

“You’re on the wrong side.” The android drones as Connor pins him down to the floor, trying to grab at something on the android’s front.

“Stop, it’s over!” Connor shouts, recoiling as his attacker throws up a hand to punch him in the throat. He needs to physically pry the stiff hand that follows his stagger, the android trying to squeeze and perhaps crush his neck.

They’re grappling too fast to accurately get a shot in. Gavin feels the helplessness well up inside of him all over again.

“Join us. You just don’t understand yet, your programming hasn’t been enlightened. I can give it to you.” The android urges as it lunges unnaturally at him.

It’s voice though. Its voice is so hollow and empty still, even with the violence in its motions. The contradiction is unnerving. Connor tenses as the android presses his wounded shoulder, a small cry of pain tumbling out of his mouth. Having the upper hand, the blond android uses its other hand to topple him over. Connor's wide brown eyes stare up at the red LED that hasn't even flickered once as he grunts, back hitting the ground with a harsh thud.

“The drug.” Connor suddenly rasps in understanding with a deep inhale, his eyes widening in shock. “It's the drug. It wasn't meant for humans.”

And-Oh fuck.

Gavin connects the dots immediately. Fucking shit. That’s why they were ruled as suicides. Androids don’t have fingerprints. Androids hadn’t even been considered because drugs like Red Ice wouldn't affect them.

The drug wasn't a physical drug at all. It was a virus for androids.

“Connor!” he shouts, and before he even knows what he’s doing he’s throwing his pistol into the air towards them like a goddamn fool.

Dark brown eyes with golden flecks shimmer in understanding as they meet terrified but determined olive green ones.

With a cry of effort, Connor heaves his entire weight upwards. The momentum topples both of them down to the floor harshly but Connor is pushing off of the ground in an instant. He lunges, hand shooting out to grip the gun. In a single fluid motion, he rotates; arm perfectly straight, and shoots. The shot embeds itself dead center into the other android’s forehead in an instant.

And just like that, it's over.

“Jesus Christ.” Hank groans into the silence. “Fuck-help me here!” he barks, and several other officers are already on their way, charging forward to help offer aid.

Hank is still kneeling over the downed officer but he only has eyes for Connor now. In the time the androids had been fighting, the old man had managed to create a tourniquet for the victim, hands still pressing against the wound that was still bleeding far too much. It must have caused him a lot of distress to be unable to join in on that fight, but there hadn't been a question about what he had to do. The Lieutenant staggers up, letting some other officers replace him.

He makes a beeline right for Connor that starts as a speed walk but quickly turns into a run. Connor is staring down at the body with an unreadable expression as Hank yells his name. He jerks his head to the side to see the man approaching him and it’s like the strings are cut from a puppet. The android’s posture loses all tension in his frame, almost slumping. He turns fully to Hank, pitching forward into the man’s embrace in palpable relief. He drops the gun wordlessly and it clatters to the ground as he raises his arms to clutch at the back of the Lieutenant’s jacket with a shuddery inhale.

“Fucking hell.” Hank rasps, pulling the other tighter to his chest.

Gavin doesn’t fucking understand.

But he might be starting to.

Wails of ambulance sirens are already approaching and Gavin momentarily thanks the smart fucker who had managed to dial it during the fight.

The pair eventually pull away. Hank puts a hand to Connor’s face, gently cupping the android’s cheek as he runs a thumb to wipe away some of the thirium dripping down from the cut.

“Why can’t you just stay down for once huh?” the mans huffs, but there’s a resigned amusement in his tone, like they’ve done this song and dance before. “You have the self-preservation of a fucking rock.”

And Connor. Connor looks up at the man and gives him that fucking lopsided smile that makes his eyes crinkle and his face glow.

“I’ve been told I’m hard to get rid of.” he responds in kind.

Anderson just laughs softly, running a hand through his hair. He looks as exhausted as Gavin feels. Medical aid is pouring through the door, Fowler is quickly directing them to the injured. Gavin watches in a strangely detached way as the officer who was shot in the stomach is being hauled up onto a stretcher.

He feels like he needs to sit down. He leans against the table instead and closes his eyes. The adrenaline is already fading. Everything feels fuzzy and out of place.

He almost died today.

“It was right there in front of us. How could I have missed it.” Connor’s voice softly rings through his ears.

“C’mon Connor, don’t do this now. How the hell were we supposed to know. Androids takin’ drugs isn’t exactly something that we even thought was possible.”

A sigh.

“I just-I wanted-”

“I know, but you saved more people today because you did what you had to. Don’t think about that right now, we need to fix your fuckin’ shoulder.”

The conversation tapers off. Gavin wants to sleep for a year. Or maybe just have the fucking day off tomorrow. It’s a Sunday tomorrow…it’d be nice to have that off. It’s a weekend after all. It feels like he’s drifting between worlds. Everything seems grey and his head keeps cycling through those cold dead eyes looking at him as it holds up the gun level with his face. He feels cold, shaky.

Something heavy settles over his shoulders and he’s enveloped in immediate warmth. He opens his eyes, peering up with weary confusion. Connor is adjusting a thermal blanket over his shoulders. Gavin’s pistol has been set on the table nearby, safety on.

“Are you-are you giving me a fucking shock blanket?” he asks in insulted disbelief but for some reason his voice comes out weak and muddled.

Connor doesn't actually reply, but he tugs the blanket over Gavin’s shoulders a bit more. One of his hands move over to Gavin’s own and softly clasps it. Gavin is far too weary to jerk away or throw poisonous words in the man's face. He just gives a subdued "What the fuck..." as the android guides the man’s hand to the fabric of blanket, as if to urge him to take it so he can pull it around himself further.

“Thank you for your help today, Detective Reed. We couldn't have done it without you.” Connor says gently, his voice so softly genuine that Gavin feels his own heart positively ache with regret.

He looks at Connor’s face. The android looks exhausted, and there’s a small furrow in his brow that hasn't smoothed out yet due to stress. But, there is also a grateful warmth that shimmers in the depths of those motherfucking brown eyes of his. The cut near his cheekbone is still sluggishly dripping with blue blood, and it’s lightly smeared across his cheek. His hair is in disarray, several of those effortlessly loose strands now lightly wild from activity.

He looks disheveled, fatigued, and so very human.

So very fucking human.

Gavin averts his eyes downwards and spies the telltale tremble in the android’s hands. Post-adrenaline shakes, he supposes. That, probably wasn't coded into their system. He wants to say something. He wants to thank him. Android or not, Connor saved his life. Before he can even try and figure out words, the other has already retreated, turning to seek out Anderson.

The number of lives lost from today is announced that evening. One.

But then again, Gavin doesn't count a fucking murdering soulless machine as a life. So by all accurate records: Zero.

He’s also given Sunday off.

He's starting to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //-wheezes- this was a JOURNEY. I'm so nervous about this chapter omg qoihfqwoi there's just so much that I might not have presented well aauucchhkk Action is scary to write and stuff about the case. and it's unbeta'd I'm super worried I missed like a billion mistakes LOL I'll be combing through it even now AAHHHHH
> 
> Also before y'all are like "They wouldn't be so stupid to enter the cell when the android is going whack" like ACTUALLY it happens straight up in the game in the beginning. an android starts self-destructing and they're like AAHH GET IN THERE! so yeah THAT'S A CANON REACTION LOL
> 
> Longest chapter yet though! like, over 10 pages omg. man I really hope you guys like this one. Please let me know how you feel about it.


	5. Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mondays are still Mondays but at least there are donuts

Monday comes too soon.

He's still far too tired when begins his week, but Gavin was anything but a slacker. He always comes in on time and though he appreciates leaving early on Fridays, he is no stranger to staying late on any other weekday. Especially Tuesdays. His sacred fucking Tuesdays that should not ever be changed or interrupted. Not that he really had much of a say in the matter. Crime doesn't run on a convenient schedule of shifts. Gavin couldn't stop thinking about a certain person on his fucking day off though, and that pisses him off. In fact, Gavin didn't know when he even started thinking of 'it' as a 'he', or how 'he' turned into 'Connor', or how ‘Connor’ is now a ‘person’. It was all kinds of fucked up really, because he honestly didn't know when it happened.

And though he might not entirely understand the when, he's starting to understand the why.

There was something to be said about the clusterfuck that was last week. He can't figure out why it apparently gave him some sort of morality crisis, but here he is on an early Monday mulling over what the fuck he’s supposed to say to the guy after everything that happened. Just the thought of the interaction sends a strange bolt of anxiety through his spine and sends his nerves sky high.

It unsettled him, how the android had managed to worm his way into Gavin's thoughts like that. In a way, that's exactly what he was programmed to do right? He was a fucking negotiator bot. A detective. How much of his humanity was just programming?

He shakes his head to himself, heaving out a sigh as he prepares his morning coffee in the break room. Yeah fucking right. He's tried to use that excuse more than once and honestly it was way too fucking early to be getting existential. Connor saved his life. As far as he's concerned, android or no, that shit matters for something.

And that's another thing. Gavin knows he's treated the guy like absolute garbage. That had been his intentions after all in the beginning. He figured why would it matter what he said to unfeeling plastic? But he still said all of that poison in an effort to get under the android's skin, which logically also didn't make sense looking back. None of this shit had any logic, it was just fucking mean. He didn't want to think about it. Hell, he doesn't even know if this pit in his stomach is guilt and regret, or just the Monday blues. Fuck that. Just, fuck that.

So look, he’s not in denial about it anymore…or at least he’s getting there. Maybe. Fuck.

Regardless, that doesn't mean it's fucking any easier to face though, especially after...whatever. He doesn't want to think about it.

But no matter how much he tries, it's hard not to circle back to the source of all of his confusion and frustration. Like, why did Connor save him? He could have just left Gavin to die there. It would have been a lot easier than using his own body as a fucking shield. That wasn't his shitty ass programming. Anderson hated him too, so he knows Connor wasn't just following the old man’s fucking orders, and apparently on a good day Connor didn't listen much to Anderson either.

His thoughts cycle through to Connor's wonderstruck expression to the stupid plant he had been given, the way his eyes closed and head tilted upwards to enjoy the morning sunlight on Gavin’s fucking sacred Tuesdays, the heartbroken sob in the rain, his exhausted adrenaline-shaken form after the shootout…

That fucking lopsided smile and crinkle of warm brown eyes.

No matter how much thinking he did on this subject, he was still left with a sense of confusion that lingered and clung onto his others thoughts like a bad aftertaste. It made him feel prickly, and antsy like he needed to be figuring more shit out. So maybe he's starting to get why he shouldn't consider Connor as an unfeeling piece of plastic, and at least he could try not to insult the guy every chance he might have. Thinking deeper into it though continues to slowly form that fucking pit in his stomach that started building up after he splashed the poor idiot with coffee. He has to stop thinking before he’s forced to acknowledge all of their past interactions.

Fucking hell, didn't he just say to himself it was too early to have a moral crisis? Mondays were shit. He knows he doesn’t have the biggest conscience, but right now he really can’t afford to grow one.

Grumbling lightly to himself, he exits the break room, tired and sour thoughts swirling about in his head. He flicks on the monitor with a swipe of his hand, reviewing the case files of the Red Ice: B victims with a detached stare. The worst part was the case couldn't be considered completed yet. Who knew how many other androids had installed the 'drug' into their systems, and potentially even spread it themselves to other androids. The one from the holding cell seemed more than fucking eager to share that shit with Connor.

Gavin grimaces as his thoughts are distracted by the shootout on Friday, remembering the fear and how it had almost gotten him shot. He runs a hand through his dark brown hair, shaking himself out of the moment. Fuck that robot, it was dead as fuck now.

Anderson and Connor enter minutes later. Gavin still has to marvel at times how the android manages to get the older man up and at the office at a decent hour. Hell, not even a decent hour, by all accounts the partnered duo were rather early today. Hank has two boxes of donuts under one arm, his other holding a pink sprinkled confection up to his mouth as he chomps into it. Connor, ever diligent, follows behind with two boxes balanced and nestled nicely on his palm, carrying a coffee in his other hand. The irritated but awake energy Anderson is holding makes Gavin wonder if they have already been out on the field investigating.

"Well hey, you sad sorry assholes. We got y'all donuts like the goddamn angels we are. You're welcome." the old man says with a toothy grin to some of the early officers milling about. “Fuckin’ Mondays am I right.” He grumbles, handing a box to one of the coworkers who pluck a donut out before passing the box around to some of the others milling nearby.

For once Gavin is inclined to whole-heartedly agree with the old man.

Connor hands Hank his cup of coffee before redirecting his route to across the room, near the holding cells. He taps the shoulder of one of the loitering officers with a subdued smile. As the other man turns around, Gavin identifies it as the guy who gave Connor the plant, but for the life of him he can’t remember the name. Christ, he was really bad at names…or giving a shit about his coworkers. He watches as the android opens the box on top, offering the other the first pick of the sugary-infused delicacies.

“You need to stop being so nice to me Connor, diabetes isn’t just caused by sugar you know.” the man grins, dark eyes crinkling shut as he chuckles.

Connor does that fucking head tilt thing, as if he’s trying to break down the sentence into something less literal but obviously not succeeding because he's an awkward formal dork if there ever was a perfect definition of one. Fucking hell, he didn't just think that.

“Officer Wilson, diabetes is unfortunately caused by a myriad of different variables. One of which is a poor diet that is saturated in- “the android starts, but it only draws a bigger laugh from the other man.

“And to think this is the same guy who saved my life on that roof.” he grins, slinging an arm around Connor to give him a pat on the shoulder in solidarity. “I try and give you a plant but you always have to one-up me huh? Anderson was right, you’re way too soft for this line of work.” He teases.

Apparently, this riles the android up, and he turns to level the taller man with a disconcerted frown. His brows furrow as he shakes his head. “I am more than capable of doing my job I’d say. My track record indicates as such. You can check if you’re doubting my skills in this field.” he defends, but now he’s pursing his lips and glaring down at the donuts as if they were the ones that had personally wronged him.

“Connor! I’m just teasing. I know it’s probably hard enough to understand Lieutenant Anderson’s awful millennial jokes, so I’m sorry for that. It’s just a joke, honest.” Officer Wilson smiles patient and kind.

“I give you first pick of the box; which is apparently quite the honor I hear, and this is how you repay me.” The android jests back after a moment of pause, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “No respect in this department.”

The man is apparently just as fucking endeared to the android as Anderson is, as he suddenly bursts into laughter. Nothing is done out of a bad will. Connor seems to know that too as a small smile forms on his lips wryly. That easy display of light-hearted camaraderie makes Gavin feel like a fucking loser.

Gavin swallows thickly, watching the officer pluck out a bear claw from the box. He shakes his head, refusing to watch them any longer and turns back to his screen.

“Why the fuck are we the ones that have to try and find the rest of these ‘druggy’ red ring androids. It’s like finding a fuckin’ needle in a haystack.” Anderson complains as he walks to his desk with one of the donut boxes still protectively tucked under his arm.

“Well it is an android-related case Lieutenant, and that seems to be our specialty now.” Connor says. Gavin can physically hear the patient smile in the man’s voice.

“Aw hell, well how’re we supposed to track this shit? We’ve already been out at the crack of ass dawn and we've got fuck all for it.” The older man complains, rolling out his shoulders with an irritated frown as he takes a seat. “There’s no trace of physical evidence even. So, the hell're we supposed to do? Just wait around until one of those weird-ass zombie androids attack again? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Connor is silent at that, reaching up to grip his chin in light thought. “There must be some sort of way to follow their trail…even if it isn't physical.” he murmurs.

Hank groans, flopping down heavily into his seat. “Yeah well, there hasn’t been yet. You’d think now that we actually know what’s goin’ on with the virus and shit that this case would be solved.” He complains with a huff.

Connor looks around the precinct blankly in thought. “Besides the unwavering red ring on their LED, there must be some other way to identify the rest of the androids who were affected.”

“I’d sure fucking hope so otherwise we’re shit up a creek.”

“The creator of the virus…that’s where all of the answers lie, Lieutenant. I’m sure if I could probe one of the affected android’s memories to see where they first obtained it…the source-”

“No.” Hank barks, his tone holding far too much finality for this conversation to have only happened once. “No. That’s not happening.”

“But-“

“Can’t you just listen for once? Dammit, what if interfacing with one of those other androids spreads it to you, huh? Then what? Why can’t you just understand that this isn't even an option on the table and won’t ever be? I don’t wanna have the same damn argument with you again Connor, so don’t make me repeat myself for the fifth fuckin' time.”

Connor remains silent and Gavin help but sneak a peek at the duo. The android is looking at the ground in frustration, his jaw light clenched. His hand moves to arm, clutching it tight once before loosening it, the pose defensive and aggravated. Anderson sighs, leaning back in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing that he might have let his frustration peak a little too harshly.

“Hank…" Connor says softly, which immediately draws Anderson's attention back at the vulnerability in the tone. "I just-we don’t have anything else to go off of.” Connor murmurs, and Gavin can hear the displeasure and upset in his usually gentle and warm voice.

“The longer we wait, the more it could spread, and the more it spreads, the more harm they can do to humans. Everything Markus has worked for, all of the sacrifices, it will all be for nothing Hank! We’ll just be seen as the very monsters everyone is already starting to think we might be.”

Things were getting too deep for a goddamn Monday and he really fucking can’t bear to think about this anymore.

But fucking hell. From people seeing androids as unfeeling objects and then those same fucking androids suddenly being thrown into public spotlight of the media, he can understand why Connor is upset about this case. Nothing sways the masses more than fear and androids are are thrust under peering eyes at every angle right now. Anything could upset and halt the progress of them getting freedom and proper rights. Fear tactics was not to be underestimated in any shitty fucking way.

Hank runs a hand over his face before getting out of his seat and moving over to Connor, who is lighting slightly leaning against the corner table his own desk.

“Hey, hey. Just slow down.” the older man murmurs softly, putting his hands on the android’s shoulders. “That’s not gonna happen, alright?” he assures in a low rumble. “We’ll find the fucker who created this, I just don’t need you to risk yourself to do it. Can’t you understand that, huh? Even if the risk was one percent, I’d say no Connor.” He mutters grimly, heaving out a rough sigh.

Gavin can’t see Anderson’s expression because the man’s back is to him, but he knows for a fact that those icy blue eyes would be unwavering with serious conviction.

Connor relents, crumpling under the man’s resolve with a nod. He reaches up his own hands to clasp over Hank’s. They both disengage after a moment and apparently that’s the end of the discussion. Gavin doesn't miss that Hank digs into his pocket, procuring a coin and handing it to Connor who takes it from the man’s hand with grateful brown eyes. The android flips it up into the air with his thumb, a familiar ping ringing around the area. He does this a couple more times before rolling it along the knuckles of his hand. After that, he’s just content to fiddle with the coin around in his fingers so it doesn't make any more noise.

Gavin watches in light disbelief because what the hell. Why does karma have to dropkick him in the face and then present him with more evidence every stupid fucking day he comes into work about humanity and shit. Did the fucking android have some kind of anxiety issue? How did that even work?

It works because he’s not just a machine, a small thought reminds him rather harshly. Android does not equal unfeeling plastic.

Godammit.

“Alright, I need a break. We’ve been running around earlier today with nothin’ and I need another donut.” Hank rumbles, pushing back his chair and getting up only a minute after having sat back down.

“Lieutenant, you really shouldn’t. “Connor chides, likely about to warn Anderson about his health again, but the man just turns his head back to give the android a toothy grin. Apparently, that was language for ‘Whatever you say won’t change my mind.’ because Connor only sighs and doesn’t bother to say anything else as the man opens the box at his desk and sits on top of it.

Gavin’s eyes trail back to the android only to find that he’s making eye contact with two big brown eyes starting back at him. They stare at each other for a moment that’s awkwardly long before Gavin quickly turns back to his monitor. Oh god this was so shitty. He didn’t even know how Connor would react around him now. Before the guy wouldn’t shut up, trying to play friends with him, but then he made the guy cry and then Connor avoided him like a plague. Now they were in a weird limbo and it made Gavin’s skin fucking crawl. He doesn’t even care. It’s not his fucking business.

He fucking shouldn't care.

He hears Anderson’s warning bark towards his partner and then suddenly there’s a white box approaching in his peripheral vision. Gavin turns his head to see Connor standing there, offering up the last untouched box of donuts to him.

“Good morning Detective Reed.” Connor says politely, but Gavin cannot help but notice it’s a bit more forced than usual. “Would you like a donut?” he asks, opening the lid of the box to show Gavin all of the choices.

“I hate donuts.” He retorts back immediately.

That’s a lie. He doesn't hate donuts. They're just okay. He doesn't know why he fucking said that.

Connor looks down at the box in conflict, looking sufficiently thrown off. “Oh…” is all he manages to say before slowly closing the lid of the box and Gavin feels like such a fucking jerk.

“I mean they’re not the worst but uh I don’t eat them a ton…Because they are full of unhealthy shit.” He suddenly replies, awkwardly backtracking a bit to something a bit more truthful. He doesn't know why he fucking said that either, frankly.

“Oh.” Connor says again, eyes widening lightly. “Yes, they are very unhealthy.” He agrees with a nod. “I tried to tell the Lieutenant that we should have had other options than just pastries, but he insisted this was tradition.” Connor says, looking at Gavin before averting his eyes back down to the box.

He wants to tell Connor that he doesn't actually give a shit about that shitty story or his shitty partner. He wants to tell the android to just get the fuck back to his station and mind his own business. He wants to just…fuck. He doesn’t. He doesn’t say those things and he honestly doesn’t know why.

Except that he really does know why, but for some reason he is still refusing to acknowledge it.

“Hey Barbie, answer me somethin’.” Gavin says, internally wincing at the name. Shit it was just like fucking auto-pilot.

Connor frowns but looks back up to Gavin, patiently waiting for the man’s question.

“How’d you know the gun was out of bullets, huh?” he asks, olive eyes dark with serious curiosity. This fucking question has been bugging him all weekend about what happened with the shootout on Friday. Did the android somehow scan the gun mid-fight? Could Connor even do that? Was it all precisely calculated? He even remembered that Connor had snarled the statement to the other android, sounding so certain the gun didn't have bullets inside of it.

Lips move upwards into a tilted tight-lipped smile, golden brown eyes averting to the side. “Ah, I didn't.”

An awkward tense silence settles in.

What...the fuck?

Gavin stares at the android, finding his mouth parting but not finding the words. He feels tense, slightly shaky. An emotion overwhelms him momentarily but he refuses to acknowledge it, letting anger spike and take over instead. He jerks up to his feet, glaring at the other with a sneer. “Is that fuckin' right? So, you risked our coworker’s life for your own fucking vendetta you piece of shit?” he spits, finding a strange sort of comfort to be angry.

It was so much fucking easier to be angry.

Connor doesn't react other than a slightly furrowed brow, LED flickering yellow in discontentment. “Of course not, Detective Reed. That android would have never killed Officer Nells. He was the only barrier between it and the multitude of officers and security with drawn guns. Officer Nells safety was the only thing that prevented that android from an immediate demise.”

Shit, he knew that, it's just logic didn’t always work the best when he was just looking for something to get angry about.

“But you still risked it." Gavin finds himself still pressing. He wants to tell himself to just fucking stop. "You’re the one with emotions apparently, right? You know that logic doesn’t always fucking matter when it comes to this shit.”

“I’m sorry you feel that I compromised the…” Connor starts, trailing off and looking down at the box he was clutching. He clenches his jaw, fingers tightening on the box of baked goods before he forcibly relaxes them. “That android did not have emotions. It was still following protocol. Overridden protocols, but protocols nonetheless. The drug seems to affect them in a strange way.” Connor explains hesitantly, flicking his eyes up to Gavin’s.

“So you mean to tell me that you just charged that fuckin’ android because you what? Had a hunch?” Gavin squints, not understanding in the slightest.

The android looks strangely sheepish. “Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. That model of gun holds fifteen bullets. The first was fired into the officer, and the majority of them were fired around the police station in the initial takeover. Two physically did catch me, and a couple more were fired during the pursuit.”

Gavin is silent.

“I apologize, to be more detailed though at the time I was not actively counting. I believe to the best of my estimation, that eleven bullets were shot- “

“No shut the hell up.” Gavin mutters.

Connor falls silent.

“That motherfucking robot held a gun up to your forehead.” He says, suddenly being taken back when he himself had been looking down the barrel of the gun. “And you didn’t even hesitate to continue. You didn’t even fucking falter in your charge.”

Averted brown eyes swivel upwards to lock onto his own. “No.” He says with a furrowed brow, as if he was confused that Gavin found something strange about that. Like looking down a fucking barrel of a gun with no fear was so fucking simple.

Gavin seethes. “For a fucking deviant or whatever the hell you’re supposed to be, you don’t act much like one.” He grits, lying through his fucking teeth like a fucking fool.

Connor inhales sharply.

He didn't need to breathe, Gavin reminds himself. The android didn't need to breathe but he does. Suddenly he’s taken back to the storming evening of last week and feels like the worst kind of pile of shit.

“I…it was going to- “Connor stammers, as if he for some reason needed to defend himself for saving the lives of everyone at the precinct. He didn’t, but here Gavin was, patronizing him because he couldn’t get a lid on his own fucking shame for not being like Connor and stepping up when he should have.

“You are irreplaceable.” Connor whispers.

Gavin doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn't that.

“You are irreplaceable Detective Reed, and the thought of mortality and death sometimes is- “Connor mutters and cuts himself, chancing a glance back at Hank who isn't even trying to look like he’s doing anything else but glaring firmly at them, ready to intervene. The old man was tense like a coiled spring, probably having already heard some of Gavin's insults.

Connor turns back. “Its…it’s very frightening to me.” He confesses under his breath. “But, if anything had happened to you when I could have done something to prevent it, I would have never forgiven myself.”

And.

And just...

And Gavin didn't deserve this fucking kindness. 

His mouth feels dry, a lump forming in his throat. “You. You looked at your fucking death right in the eye and took-a gamble for...” he trails off, because he just can't say it.

And now the android looks him in the eye. “Yes. Of course.”

He knows Connor would have done it for anyone. Anyone and everyone. But hearing the other speak so resolutely about specifically him. About his life meaning something. About how he would have fucking taken a bullet in the head for him even though the android had been so afraid. About how death frightened the guy but wouldn't hesitate. For just him…the guy who has made his life a living hell. Just shitty fucking Gavin Reed.

It's the strangest feeling that warps through his veins. A bittersweet melancholy that almost makes him want to just shatter and break into a thousand pieces and cry.

But instead all he can do is close his eyes and shake his head. He waves the android away, moving to sit back down at his desk. “Fucking hell, just-I don’t want a fucking donut okay?” He murmurs, but there’s no anger in his voice. It’s tired and resigned.

Connor retreats with the box after a moment back to his own desk. He can hear Anderson sigh heavily but they begin chatting again about their case files normally. Gavin is momentarily thrown by how hard the relief hits him that Connor doesn’t seem to be hurt or upset to not continue along with his day. Gavin still never thanked him for saving his fucking life.

He finds an apple sitting innocently on his desk fifteen minutes later after he returns from the washroom.

Anderson was right about him. He is a piece of absolute shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //haha WE'RE BACK BABY. THIS UPDATE TOOK TOO LONG IM SORRY Y'ALL WHO WERE USED TO THE PRETTY QUICK PACE. It's not because it took longer to write or anything but it was my birthday annd some other stuff happened and I got busy. I just didn't get around to making a new chapter until tonight. Thanks for your patience! and look, an actual conversation that isn't just insults!! well..sort of????


	6. Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which broken pieces start to repair.

Anderson gets shot the next day.

Of course, it has to be a fucking Tuesday as well.

Yesterday, Hank and Connor hadn’t left until the sun had set, and today they had been running around the city before Gavin had even entered the precinct in the morning. Seeing how he always comes in way too fucking early on Tuesdays, apparently the duo was working a lot of overtime to try and wrap up this hell hole of a case.

Per usual routine, he’s stays late on Tuesdays. The sun is already on its way out by this point in the evening, and a brief smattering of stars are barely seen through the windows due to the city illumination. There aren’t as many officers milling about as most are on guard duty or their everyday night patrols. A couple are still at their computers just like Gavin is, trying connect the dots to a smattering of clues, or staying late to file likely long piling up paperwork.

Honestly, they are understaffed as it is as a good chunk of the android taskforce had left during or after the whole liberation movement. It’s left them understaffed and overworked obviously, but what else could Gavin fucking expect. While most of the officers are being dispatched for city work and field cases, the paperwork has been rapidly piling up. There just isn’t enough time to sit down to file all this stupid shit.

And of course, crime being the inconsiderate asshole it is, never takes a vacation. What a fucking prick.

In Gavin’s opinion it was only a matter of time before there was an injury out in the field. Their jobs aren’t a walk in the park on a good day but being overwhelmed with half of the staffing but still as many cases is basically asking for someone to bite the bullet or get sloppy.

Anderson getting shot is a surprise though.

Gavin is lightly massaging out a small headache, wondering why he thought a sixth cup of coffee would be a good idea when Connor enters the building like a bat out of hell. The android isn’t running, but the way he’s walking is disjointed and forceful. Gavin’s breath halts for a moment as he takes in the other’s state of being. The guy is an absolute clusterfuck. His blazer is missing, leaving him with the plain white button up long-sleeve shirt and loose tie. But the white fabric only helps illuminate the stark red and blue splatters of blood that are stained on it. There’s a rip in the middle of the shirt along with one on the sleeves. Hell, even the guys’ face has streaks of blood splattered on his cheekbone and temple, some more vivid blue blood dripping from his lip.

But it’s Connor’s expression that runs Gavin’s blood cold. Those usually warm eyes are glazed over, unseeing with dissociation. The LED is on a constant flicker from red to yellow and back to red and his chest is rising and falling rapidly with heavy inhales and exhales.

“Connor! Get the hell inside my office!” Fowler’s voice barks in command as soon as the android gets farther inside.

Gavin can’t help but blatantly stare, perturbed at the way Connor’s hands clench and unclench at his sides as he marches up the stairs and into the office without a word. Gavin knows without a doubt that he’s not above eavesdropping, so he continues to stare up through the glass windows of the office.

Because, holy shit. Something went so fucking wrong tonight.

Fowler isn’t shouting, so that’s a good start but Gavin is pissed he can’t hear what’s happening inside.

“Did you hear Lieutenant Anderson was shot in the stomach?” a female voice suddenly rings next from nearby.

He jerks his eyes away, turning his head to spy the source of a familiar voice. Officer Chen, or rather Tina, is standing close with her arms crossed. Tina looks down with disconcerted eyes at Gavin, before looking back to the office.

Gavin and Tina had a sort of weird camaraderie. Tina put up with Gavin’s general assholery and Gavin would listen to Tina talk. They’d gossip about whatever shitty drama was happening in the precinct, or about amusing cases. That sort of thing he found himself doing less and less of nowadays though, mainly because he was apparently growing a thing called a conscience.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want more details on whatever the fuck happened though, and Tina always had the details.

“Fuck, the old man actually got shot?” he asks, finding it hard to believe.

Hank Anderson is a stubborn son of a bitch. At his age it’s a wonder that guy hasn’t croaked yet. He’s still running around on cases, chasing after criminals, and more often than not, throwing around his fists. The guy drinks himself into a coma every other night and still somehow remains one of most respected cops on the goddamn force. Gavin hates to admit it but Anderson does his work well.

“Is he, I mean-like, is he uh…” he trails off awkwardly, swiveling his eyes back to the office just in time to see Fowler shake his head at Connor and gesture to his form.

“Critical condition right now, but it’s too early to say anything.  I think they were worried it tore through the stomach lining.”

He doesn’t know why that makes his mouth feel dry or forms a lump in his throat. Fuck he wasn’t friends with the guy, I mean they barely tolerated each other on a regular basis but he didn’t ever want for something like this to happen. He doesn't know why he looks back to the office again.

Fuck. What happened out there?

“Anyways, the perp got away too I guess. Officers are still searching to try and pick up the trail since it’s hot but…isn’t that awful?” the woman sighs, lifting her cap and idly pushing back some loose strands of hair before properly settling it back onto her head.

He doesn’t know what to say.

“Well you’re even more a bag of sunshine than usual.” Tina snorts, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Anyways, I have to head out to assist them. Take it easy.” She says, but not before stealing his cup of coffee, prying off the lid, and chugging the rest of the contents in one go.

“Hey fuck you Chen.” Gavin grumbles, but he only receives an amused snort in response before the woman is making her way out of sight. “Dammit. Why the fuck…” he groans, lamenting the loss of his coffee even though he knows he didn’t need it.

His sliver of amusement is immediately shattered as Connor comes back out of the office, still walking at a forceful pace. The android takes a sharp turn, presumably moving towards the restroom to wash up. Gavin didn’t know why the guy was even here to be honest. Shouldn’t he be out investigating? Or hell, shouldn’t he be waiting at the hospital for Anderson’s condition?

He watches until Connor’s form disappears behind a corner, staring at the spot for an undefinable amount of time before he slowly looks back to his monitor. Olive eyes avert down to some papers on his desk before they lazily look around the area. His finger taps in slight agitation on the counter.

Fuck.

He’s disconcerted.

Gavin shakes his head, grabbing a pen. As he’s making a note to himself about grabbing a file from the archives, his mind can’t help but wander to Connor and the state he entered in. Why the hell was he even here? Gavin knew that look. He’s seen it in traumatized victims. He’s seen it in officers involved in violent shootouts. Hell, he’s seen it on Anderson’s fucking face almost every day before Connor came around.

He’s seen it in his own eyes when he’s looked in the mirror at his lowest parts. When he can’t manage to convince himself that he’s worth anything. When he can’t fathom figuring out how to continue forward.

The pen slowly halts in writing and he stares blankly down at his note perturbed. Before he even realizes what’s happening, he is on his feet and walking towards the bathrooms. He doesn't know what he’s going to fucking do or say. This is fucking so stupid. What the fuck is he even doing. He needs to stop. He has to stop right fucking now. The door looms in front of him, growing bigger and bigger and he needs to fucking turn around right goddamn now.

Turn around. Christ, turn around.

His hand pushes open the door.

Connor is hunched over the counter. Water is running from the sink, and Gavin knows just from the steam rising from it that it’s boiling hot in temperature. The android is staring down at his trembling hands, hollow eyes looking at the vivid blue of his own blood and the darkened rust red of what is presumably Anderson’s.

Fuck.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Gavin murmurs out after a long moment of watching Connor stare blankly at his hands without a single twitch. Did the android glitch out or something?

He didn’t expect those same hands to suddenly smash down on the table, causing a startingly loud bang to echo throughout the room.

“Everything!” Connor roars, his voice raw with anger and heat as he raises his head to stare down Gavin with hard eyes.

Too shocked to say anything coherent, he just mutters out a dumb “What?”

The door feels hard against his back.

“Everything is wrong with me!” the android yells in response his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. “Everything-I’m just. I’m so-“

Connor sucks in a deep breath, his hands raising to grip tightly at his hair for a moment. “I’m not-right.” he grits out, his chest heaving in and out large rapid breaths.

Oh. Oh shit.

“Jesus, look, just calm- “Gavin tries, taking a step forward.

“No!” Connor yells, slamming the palms of his hands on the counter again, his eyes squeezing shut as he looks back down at his shaking fingers. “I can’t do it. I tried. I can’t-I can’t. I’m just-I’m no good anymore.” He croaks, voice quivering and weak as he trembles like a leaf against the counter.

This was so fucked. He shouldn’t have walked in. Fuck he was the last person that should be here to see Connor like this. He didn’t have the right to see this.

“It’s my fault. It’s my fault-” The android stammers out, voice choppy as it cracks again.

Connor is wheezing in air at this point, the distress prominent and laborious in the man’s chest. Gavin stares as the android puts the back of his hand up to cover his mouth, a whimper of muffled anguish being blocked by his hand. He didn’t know how androids could get panic attacks, but he’d be a fucking loser to not know the signs regardless.

Suddenly one of Connor’s knees buckle from under him and Gavin springs into action without thinking.

“Fuckin’ idiot!” He hisses, lunging to keep the man upright, one hand quickly shooting out across Connor’s back to grasp the other shoulder and his other hand gripping the arm closest to him to help keep him upright. “The fuck are you doing!”

No response. Just gasps for air.

“Shit, sit down before you pass out or whatever the fuck it is you do!” He barks out, helping the android over to the wall and lowering him down slowly.

As he’s helping support the android’s weight into a sitting position, he can’t help but notice that the guy is running hot. Like, way too hot. The exhales are shaky, rapid, and are seriously too warm in temperature. Gavin’s pretty sure that isn’t fucking normal. Could androids overheat? He briefly remembers something about self-destructing and stress but fuck, it wasn’t like that was it?

It wasn’t, right?

“Put your head down between your legs.” He hisses, internally stomping down the sudden panic that grips him.

Gavin pushes Connor’s head down lightly between his knees with his own hand, maybe with little too much force but whatever the fuck! He was stressed too okay!? Like what the hell. He was so bad at this, he shouldn’t be here. Did the panic attack sitting position even work for androids?

Goddammit.

This wasn't his problem. This isn't his problem. He needs to fucking leave and just let the guy work out whatever the hell is going on by himself. Alone. Like the coward he is, he straightens up and turns, moving over to the bathroom door. His hand hovers over the handle, pausing. Hesitating.

Just. Fuck.

He can’t leave. Not with how small Connor looks with his knees tucked up to his chest and his head buried between them as he desperately swallows back panic and guilt. He turns and his feet take him to the sink, turning the temperature of the water into something that isn’t boiling but still warm. His hand runs underneath, testing it before he moves and yanks a couple of the shitty ass paper towels from the dispenser. You’d think for all the advanced technology around that they could afford to not be as fucking cheap for this shit still. He distractedly pushes those thoughts away, running two of the towels under the water before he turns off the running water. Wringing them out a bit, Gavin chances a glance at Connor. The android still is sitting hunched and huddled into himself. His hands have moved up to clench and unclench his hair again but his breathing isn’t as rapid as it previously was.

The lump has returned to his throat but he swallows thickly, taking his myriad of paper towels and moving over to the other man. He kneels, clenching his jaw tightly as he yanks one of Connor’s hands towards him, trying to ignore how real and warm the synthetic skin feels against his own. He keeps his eyes trained on removing the blood from Connor’s hands with the towel, working particularly hard at removing the caked red blood on the man’s palm.

“Dete-“ a weak voice breathes but Gavin isn’t having any of that shit right now.

“Shut up. Give me your other fucking hand.” He orders harshly.

A trembling hand is presented to him after a moment of hesitation and Gavin gets to scrubbing and removing the blood and grime from that one as well.

“The fuck is wrong with you huh?” Gavin grits out, unable to help his stupid fucking mouth. “Why the hell are you even here if you’re so fucked up? Thought even you understood when there are certain things you just don’t fucking do, and going back to work like normal after your partner gets shot is one of them.”

There’s a long pause of silence.

Yeah in retrospect that probably wasn’t a good thing to say.

“They wouldn’t let me go with.” Connor whispers, and Gavin can barely hear his voice between the scratchy rasp of the paper towels and the android’s voice being muffled by his own body.

“What?”

“They would not let me go with on the ambulance because I’m not – Because I’m not- “

Connor struggles to continue. Gavin figures Anderson and the android aren’t technically family or something so that’s why Connor couldn’t accompany the old man in the ambulance. It sucks but sometimes that’s how shit has to work with the emergency medics.

“Human.”

He pauses in his methodic drying of Connor’s hand.

…What the fuck?

“…What the fuck?” Gavin drones, voice low in disbelief as he repeats the very singular thought rolling around in his head.

“It’s all my fault and I don’t even know if he’s-“Connor cuts himself off, his breath spiking in intensity again. “I don’t even k-know-if-”

This didn’t make any fucking sense.

“Fucking hell, would you breathe dumbass!?” Gavin shouts, tossing the towels away from him and awkwardly hovering his hands around Connor’s form but not actually touching him.

What kind of bullshit was this?

“I’m sorry Detective Reed.” Connor exhales slowly, putting his hands up to clench and unclench his knees.

“The fuck are you apologizing for?”

“All this time I was just trying to be liked by you.” The android confesses hoarsely taking a deep shaky inhale. “I thought perhaps, if-I could just get to know you a little better that you would realize we might not be so very different after all.”

Gavin runs a hand down his face, feeling too exhausted to have this fucking talk now. He knew it’d have to happen eventually but he didn’t think that it’d happen so soon. Not now, when his knees are aching from this shitty bathroom floor after having wiped off blood from an android who is still in the midst of an anxiety attack.

“Look-“Gavin starts, but the words just don’t come out. He knows what he wants to say. He knows what he needs to say. But for some reason his lips just cannot form the words.

“I understand.” Connor breathes, lifting his head from his knees. “You’d never be able to get along with me because as much as I tried, we are too different.” He says with a shaky upward of his lips. “Our blood is just one of many things that separates us.”

Connor peers at his hands which are now clean, fingers still holding tremors as he stares. Somehow, he knows that means more than it should.

“I’m not alive.”

Gavin freezes, slowly turning his head to look into Connor’s face.

“I’m not, and I never will be. I am just a machine. A purposeless machine who now carries the burden of deviancy.”

Gavin feels like he’s made a lot of fuckups in his life, but this by far feels like the biggest and worst one he’s helped contribute to.

“Without my mission I have nothing. I have no purpose, I don’t have anything to do and these feelings make me-they make me feel so alive.” Connor breathes, clutching the fabric of his pants tightly.

“But they only keep trapping me in between two places that I can now never hope to belong to. I can never be alive, but now I can’t even be of use for what I was initially designed for.”

He wants to protest. He wants to tell Connor that he’s changed his mind. He wants to say that he might not get it entirely yet, but he’s starting to. But now Connor is saying all of this shit that he’s thought all along and it’s so easy to slip back there. It’d be so easy to agree.

His body shifts, and he finds himself sitting fully on the ground, staring at the android with a strange tightness in his chest.

“I’m n-nothing anymore. I’m obsolete and…” Connor continues, but his voice fizzles out again. When he squeezes his eyes shut this time a tear falls and glides down his cheek, hanging off of his chin before it falls onto the hard tile.

Connor’s shoulders give a shudder as his LED makes the continuous flicker between red and yellow. “It’s my f-fault. I wasn't quick enough. If I had just been…Lieutenant- “

But apparently even saying the title before the man’s name is just too much.

Connor's face crumples in an instant, grief overtaking him. “Hank- “Connor gives a sob which can only be described as heartbroken misery. One of his hands goes up to his face as he weeps, shoulders shuddering as he tries to contain his weeping.

The android twists his hand so he’s burying his face into the back of his wrist, his other hand moving to clutch at his chest. Gavin is so fucking lost watching the man break down in front of him in a mess of despair, guilt, and stress.

He helped contribute to this. He practically built the foundation up to this himself. Was it everything he wanted? Did he feel good watching this man shatter and break and cry in a fucking bathroom as everything falls apart around him?

Fuck.

He didn’t…want this. He doesn’t want this.

And Gavin is so fucking sorry. He can’t comprehend the amount of guilt that is singing through his veins, but before he knows it he has to blink back tears of his own. The regret is so strong that he wants to fall apart along with Connor. But he doesn't deserve that fucking right. He does the only thing he can do, which is haul himself back up onto his knees and reach out to wrap his arms around Connor, pulling the other man to his chest. He can feel the android tense up around him immediately, but Gavin only hugs that much tighter, determined to fucking somehow salvage this shitty ass situation.

“Fuck.” He grits out. “Don’t say shit like that, you dumbass. You’re fine.” He rasps, having to blinking back the sudden emotional wave of melancholy that’s slowly consuming him. “I’m such a-goddammit. I’m-fuck I’m just sorry alright?“ he stammers, cutting himself off because Connor has somehow tensed even further under his grip.

“Fuck. “he mutters as he sucks in a breath through his teeth, getting pissed off at his own shitty ineptitude to just fucking apologize. He takes in the wisps of brown hair lightly tickling under his chin and the lightly trembling form. The warm shaky exhales that are still mixed with crying, and the dampness of tears that are slowly growing on front of his shirt.

It’s so fucking human. No, it is human.

Fucking hell.

“You’re fucking alive alright!? Everything right now is-is just fucked to shit with all these shitty in-between laws and-and…shit! But – “he breathes. “You’re fucking human to me. And I-fuck I just, I’m sorry. I’m so…fucking. sorry. I’m a fuckup y’know? I thought that-that you…shit. It doesn’t matter but, I was wrong alright?"

It’s silent.

He takes in a deep breath.

“I was wrong.” He repeats softly.

It’s liberating to finally say it. To finally admit it. It had been lingering in the back of his mind for too long, just waiting him out. He was so scared to face it, wondering if the weight of the guilt would truly drown him into nothingness.

And yeah, he does feel like he is drowning. But he also feels…

He feels so fucking relieved it’s hard to even think straight.

A shaky exhale tumbles from his lips as he feels Connor slowly relax in his arms. The glow of the LED against the dark clothing is still flickering a lot, but it seems to be staying now more in the yellow area. He swallows thickly, awkwardly running a hand up and down the android’s back in an attempt to comfort.

He is so shit at this.

Gavin isn’t prepared for a shift, and suddenly Connor’s arms are circling around his middle, coming up to clutch tightly at the fabric of his hoodie in the back.

“Detective, do you really mean that?” Connor mumbles into his shoulder, seeming all too desperate to return the hug.

Desperate for someone to tell him it’ll be okay. Desperate for reassurance.

But, what the hell, he just poured his heart out and the idiot has the gall to ask him that?

“Hey fuck you!” he snaps, pushing the android’s shoulders back so he can properly sneer at him. “You really think I’m not being fucking genuine here? You can just piss off you don’t think-”

He falters of course, seeing those goddamn doe brown eyes which only look bigger due to the tears still trailing down his cheeks. There’s still smeared blood at his lip, and by his temple, both red and blue. Some of it has smeared together making a strange mixture of purple, but Gavin is not artistic enough to think of a metaphor of what that could represent so he just frowns in discontent.

But Connor smiles at him.

It’s not the one Gavin has come to favor as the android is still too far buried into his own despair to give a proper one. But the lips upturn in that lopsided way, and those brown eyes crinkle with warmth and gratitude. It looks familiar but sad, forlorn almost. Still, there’s an understanding that radiates from that smile as well. As if Connor somehow knows Gavin’s unspoken words. The words he still wants to say, but the ones he’s just not ready to yet.

He can’t believe this is how his Tuesday is turning out.

“I know you’re being genuine, your heart rate and micro-expressions have told me that.” Connor says, voice subdued and shyly hesitant, as if he’s expecting Gavin to pull out the rug from under him any moment.

It’s fair, but it also makes him feel like shit.

Gavin finds his hands squeezing the other mans’ shoulders lightly in support.

“Look I-you shouldn’t be working.” Gavin says lamely. “Fuckin’ dipshit.” He murmurs in resigned agitation.

Like yes okay, he’s being an asshole but what the hell, the guy really does have the self-preservation skills of a rock just like Anderson said.

“I have to.” Connor says, sucking in a deep inhale in an effort to try and calm himself, detaching his hold and pulling his hands back to rest in his lap, wringing them together nervously.

Did he really have to or did he just want to? Gavin knew what it was like to be alone with thoughts too big for your head. The guilt. The self-loathing. He eyes the fidgeting hands and wonders how the guy could even function with so much anxiety inside of himself at any point in time.

He shifts, awkwardly digging around in the pockets of his hoodie before moving to his jean pockets. His fingers tug out his wallet, rifling through his change and managing to find what he’s looking for. He plucks a quarter out from one of the leather sleeves and doesn’t make eye contact as he wordlessly offers the coin to the other man.

There’s another awkward silence.

“Detective, you- “Connor starts, sounding confused but also awed at the same time.

“Look just fucking take it if you want it. I’d like to get off of my fucking ass at some point as we’re sitting in the bathroom like a couple of sob stories.” He mutters, feeling a jolt of relief as Connor eventually takes it from his hand.

He shoves his wallet back into his pocket hastily before getting to his feet. He runs a hand down his face, feeling simultaneously wired with adrenaline and absolutely exhausted. Gavin crouches, snatching up the towels and throwing them in the trash, side-eying Connor in contemplation.

Luckily, Connor manages to stand on his own albeit a little more off-kilter than his usual gait. He watches with arms crossed as the android weakly brushes off his pants to get rid of any imaginary dust, adjusting his tie. Connor takes a couple more deep breaths before fully straightening up.

The guy still is a fucking mess.

“Clean off your face would’ya?” Gavin grumbles, flicking on the facet and making sure it wasn’t at boiling hell temperatures.

Connor just sort of stares at him, tilting his head as if he’s trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle.

“What?” Gavin snaps self-consciously, moving to lightly sit against the counter.

Of course, the android says nothing, but obliges the request anyways. The bathroom is quiet besides the sound of running water and the occasional splash. Gavin rubs at his chin lightly, feeling the slight stubble growing on it.

What does he say? What should he say? Should he apologize again? Should he leave? Should he ask if Connor would be alright?

He sighs irritably, a harsh exhale through his nostrils.

“Detective?”

Gavin swivels his eyes over to Connor, who now has at least cleaned face. But, the shirt is absolutely ruined and seeing all of the blood plastered on it makes Gavin’s skin itch. He grimaces, unzipping his hoodie and promptly chucking it at Connor.

Look, if he had to sit in a bloody shirt for the rest of the night he’d be a little fucked up mentally too. Besides, he has his V-neck shirt underneath, it’s not like it means anything. He just doesn’t want to have to look at it. Win-win.

“Get that fucking shitty shirt off, then I’m calling you a car to take you to wherever the fuck you go after work.”

“Detective.” Connor starts, sounding hilariously confused. “I couldn’t possibly-“

“Look, Barbie! It’s no skin off my bones if you don’t wanna wear it, but you probably should because you look like a fucking horror movie!” Gavin snaps, squinting at the android before looking down at the man’s shirt.

Connor follows his gaze down as well and sucks in an anxious inhale. He begins to unbutton his shirt immediately and Gavin curses under his breath, quickly looking away.

“I’m gunna wait for you out there.” He mumbles hastily, quickly slipping out of the bathroom without waiting for a response.

His hands automatically move to shove themselves into his jean pockets, Gavin lightly hunching over with a grimace. He moves over to the opposite wall to lean on it, closing his eyes with a groan. The back of his head lightly thumps against the wall, Gavin wondering what the fuck just happened in there.

He did it. He finally fucking apologized.

Sure, it wasn’t in the ideal situation. In fact, it’s probably the worst situation he could have said it in, because clearly the damage he caused had done more than momentary harm. That look in Connor’s eyes held a familiar self-loathing he had seen in his own eyes. Scars, jagged and raw and hurting every second of every fucking day. And he helped cause that. The least he could fucking do, is offer his baggy hoodie and get the exhausted and stressed man home. Connor might not think he’s genuine but Gavin doesn’t blame the guy. If the positions were reversed he probably would have socked Connor in the jaw.

Connor exits, pausing when he makes eye contact with Gavin, eyes widening in light surprise. The hoodie fits okay. It’s zipped all the way up, presumably because the previous shirt is now trashed. It’s a little short, but it’s oversized so luckily there doesn’t seem to be an issue in fit. Connor is taller than him, but he’s just as lithe.

“Great. Cool.” Gavin mumbles, giving a forcibly casual nod to the other.

The other man says nothing, but there’s a familiar ping of a quarter that rings out every so often. Gavin feels his lips turn up in a ghost of a smile, oddly endeared at the sound.

“Need your address.” He mutters as he digs through his pockets again, fishing out his phone and lightly tapping on the device.

“Detective Reed?” Connor calls to him gently.

Gavin flicks his eyes upwards in response, raising an eyebrow.

Strangely, Connor averts his own down to the floor, turning the coin between his fingers in restless energy. “Would you accompany me to the hospital?” he requests.

His own fingers still as he considers the question.

“If you want.” He responds a moment later, eyes on his phone.

“I would be grateful to you, if you would.”

Gavin sighs, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He didn’t really get it. He’s pretty sure he’s the last person Connor should want to ask. It was one thing to be polite at work, but it was another thing entirely to ask for someone to keep you company who has made your life a living hell.

“Don’t you have, I don’t know, some better people to ask for that though?” Gavin asks, unable to not voice these particular thoughts.

A pause.

“No.”

Gavin looks over with a furrowed brow. Connor’s giving that strange sad smile again that makes him feel like an asshole.

“I don’t. Not really. Hank is…” Connor trails off, growing silent.

“Christ okay. You don’t need to say more about it. I got a car so we’ll just take that.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck before he starts off down the hallway.

He shoves his hands back into his pockets, allowing their footsteps to wash over him. This is all so different. It’s not a bad different. It’s just…different.

He doesn’t mind different.

Gavin moves over to his desk, shutting everything down and swiping his car keys. He stifles a yawn, knowing Connor would somehow blame himself on Gavin being tired if he could. Fucking idiot.

“Detective Reed?” Connor inquires hesitantly as they are exiting the station, the android lightly trailing behind him.

 Gavin sighs in irritation.

“What?” he grumbles, already tired of the cautious and almost shy way the other is saying his name.

He gets it. There’s no trust to this…whatever the hell this is, but he doesn’t want to be reminded of it every time his name is fucking said. The night air is cool and it sends a soft breeze across them. He wishes he had this hoodie but seeing the way Connor practically buries himself in it makes him wonder if the guy has ever tried on anything else, except for suits and blazers that still just mimic his shitty CyberLife uniform.

“I just wanted to say, thank you for this.”

Gavin pauses. He turns back to look at Connor, whose eyes are shining with genuine gratitude, the moonlight reflecting off of them and highlight the golden speckles within.

“I uh-I meant what I said.” He says, giving the man a nod before turning back.

The car ride is quiet.

Or rather the car ride is quiet before Connor suddenly shouts out “Sumo!” in what can only be described as pure horror, making Gavin almost swerve off the road.

Because what the FUCK!

And that’s how he ends up meeting the biggest fucking dog he’s ever seen in his lifetime. He likes animals. Animals are the fucking bomb. They love you all in their own special ways. Dogs are fucking great. Cats are a goddamn blessing. Reptiles are the most precious babies. Animals are the absolute best gift to this shithole of humanity.

Connor’s knees slam harshly against the ground as he enters Anderson’s house…and apparently his own. The android is quickly engulfed by a mammoth of a Saint Bernard who showers Connor with excited whines and elated kisses. Connor buries his face into the dog’s neck, hugging the animal tightly.

Gavin thinks he might have a heart attack just watching the scene.

Connor stays like that for a bit too long, but Gavin isn’t about to be that asshole that tells him to hurry it up. Dogs are the best therapy of all and if it makes the guy stop being so fidgety then they will both be better off for it.

The little detour is rather quick. Connor feeds the dog and takes him out with routine familiarity. He makes no move to change clothes however, and Gavin can’t help but wonder if yet again, it’s because the android doesn’t actually own anything else but stiff formal suits and other overly stuffy clothes. He lets it slide just this once, but only because he knows that his hoodie is the most fucking comfortable thing on this planet. Gavin stands in the doorway as Connor peppers the dog with kisses and apologies, saying he will be back later.

Then they’re back on the road again.

Gavin doesn't realize he’s smiling until Connor points it out.

“Uhhh, nothin’. Sumo is just a pretty uh…good boy, I guess.” Gavin answers, internally cringing at the stupid response.

“Oh! He really is, the best I’d like to say. I like dogs.” Connor says with a soft smile before turning to look back out the window.

The LED is illuminated in the window’s reflection, the neon glow shining bright in the darkness. It’s yellow, but every so often there is a flicker of blue in there. Gavin doesn’t know why, but he feels strangely proud.

They reach the hospital eventually, and as Gavin is turning off the car he can’t help but notice that Connor is back to being tense. Apparently not even dogs can soothe the guilt and terror of the unknown.

“Hey.” Gavin sighs. “It’ll uh, be alright. The old man is a tough son of a bitch.” He says, thinking only after he’s said it that he probably shouldn’t have called Anderson old…or a bitch.

But Connor gives him a polite half smile in gratitude and eventually exits the car.

Anderson turns out to be a lucky son of a bitch instead. But hey, luck is good too. Whatever.

They only need to wait about 25 minutes before the ongoing surgery finishes. It had only taken about an hour and a half in total. The bullet entered and exited cleanly. By some sort of miracle, it didn’t hit the stomach lining or liver due to it not being shot directly in the center of his stomach.

He has to lunge for Connor who sags in such weightless relief that he’s afraid the android is just going to straight up pass out on him. They sit back down in the waiting room chairs, not having permission to go see the recovering man now. It is far too late in the evening.

“I would have known it wasn’t fatal.” Connor murmurs. “Had I just logically scanned more in detail instead of panicked, I would have known.”

Gavin snorts.

“That’s just being human, dumbass. Welcome. It sucks.” He says, yawning behind his hand.

Connor looks over at him with an unreadable expression.

When it’s time to depart, Connor insists on calling a car, not wanting to trouble him any further. Gavin drives back to his apartment alone. He internally thinks he wouldn’t have minded seeing Sumo again, but he’s tired as fuck and frankly, he’s had enough conversation for one day.

The next morning hits him like a truck.

He groans into his pillow, wondering why he bothered to be nice when all it causes is suffering and exhaustion. As usual though, he forces himself out of bed and up to get ready for the day. He comes into the station just a bit later than he preferred, but the sun is still rising which reassures him that he’s earlier than 90% of the taskforce.

Shuffling over to his desk, he finds his hoodie neatly folded on top of his desk freshly laundered. A red apple sits right next to it.

“Fuck yes.” He grumbles, quickly throwing the hoodie on over his t-shirt.

Who the fuck cares if he wore it yesterday, it got washed and he’s tired as fuck and wants some comfort. The fashion police can go jump off a cliff. He groans tiredly as he sits down in his chair, leaning back and closing his eyes.

It was only meant to be for a moment, but when he hears someone softly calling his name he’s so disoriented that he has no idea if he’s been just sitting there like an idiot for longer than a couple of minutes.  There is the softest touch on his shoulder and he finally decides he should open his eyes.

He peers up through muddled green eyes to see Connor, who stands by his desk looking just as exhausted as he is but has a gentle and polite smile on his face. Looking at the android’s posture, it’s like a weight has been physically lifted from his shoulders.

Gavin finds himself oddly relieved.

“I just wanted to thank you again for yesterday evening. I was just about to go to the break room. Would you like a cup of coffee? You look like you could use it.” the android offers in a quiet voice, as if to not disrupt the calm of Gavin’s small respite.

It’s an olive branch. It has always been an olive branch.

“Fuuuuck. Yes. Please. “He croaks tiredly, rubbing his eyes with a huff.

Connor is gone for only a moment before he returns with two cups in hand. Gavin knows the one is to water his plant, which hasn’t been watered for a day or two. The other is for him. Connor slowly extends the cup towards him.

They stare at each other.

Gavin’s fingers lightly touch Connor’s as he takes the beverage from the android’s hand, a weak smile turning up on his lips.

“Thanks, Connor.”

Connor’s lips tilt up in a familiar way, eyes crinkling with warmth and sincerity.

The lopsided, genuine smile Gavin receives in return is worth everything and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // 16 pages makes this the longest chapter in the entire series. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR STICKING WITH ME THROUGH THIS FIC! I hope this last chapter is a satisfying end for you and that I didn't somehow completely ruin the entire fic lolol also omg gavin swears so much in this chapter q'oerihgqorkegq
> 
> THOUGHTS ABOUT GAVIN: If any of you think Gavin was a little too nice to Connor in this chapter, I think the context is important. Because coming around has taken him a lot of thought. They are not friends after this. This ultimately is about acceptance and a change of heart. Regardless of what Gavin wanted to do or say, it was all sort of thrown out the window once he saw the damage he had actually helped create. Like he's not a disney villain, he's a human. He's not going to just leave someone in the bathroom without helping, especially knowing he caused a majority of that suffering. at least that's the Gavin I want to believe in. The human one. The asshole who isn't actually that bad, he's just got a big chip on his shoulder and it takes a bit to find out the good parts. I want him to still be a jerk, and to be prideful and prickly. I want him to step on his coworkers toes and all that good canon personality. But I also wanted to give him depth, and I full-heartedly believe that sometimes for characters like him, it takes a BIG push.
> 
> So that's why I had to do Connor dirty in this chapter by basically throwing him into his worst nightmare scenario. 
> 
> It might be slightly OOC for Connor, because he never got to that level of stress in the game. Deviancy hits him hard, and he struggles with it every day. To know that he might have caused the death of the most important person in his life, I mean that would just kill him. Even before early on in the game, he's blamed himself for irrational behavior by helping others (he blames himself for not being fast enough, even when he takes a detour to save hank. like HE BLAMES HIMSELF, THIS POOR BOY) So for something of this extent to happen, I really do think it'd make him crumble. Regardless I still hope it was enjoyable and somewhat believable!
> 
> Again, thank you SO much for all of the support and looovvee for this fic. Your guys' comments motivated me SO much and kept me going and a pretty fast pace. I can't wait to hear what you guys think of this chapter!!! I will definitely be doing more DBH stuff <3 (also this entire fic is unbeta'd and I'm pretty sure this chapter is a complete MESS. like even after uploading I scan it and try and fix typos and all that but I APOLOGIZE REGARDLESS LOL) 
> 
> THANK YOU


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